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S. POUESSEL, LES IDENTITÉS AMAZIGHES AU MAROC

Posté par Michael Peyron le 8 janvier 2012

Notes de lecture 

Stéphanie POUESSEL, Les identités amazighes au Maroc, Non Lieu, 2010.

Travail de doctorant rédigé en vue d’une soutenance de thèse sur le très
complexe sujet de l’amazighité (timuzġa), dont voici la version grand public,
d’entrée de jeu l’auteur souhaite se démarquer  des « coopérants chercheurs sous
le Protectorat ». Catégorie du reste inexistante, les coopérants, pour autant,
que je sache n’appartenant qu’à la période post-Protectorat. L’auteur, qui
appartient à la jeune génération montante des chercheurs français tournés vers
le Maghreb, nous prévient qu’elle s’est basée en partie sur des Amazighes de
3ème ou 4ème génération en France, faussant ainsi les données car, divorcés de
leur cadre d’origine, les intéressés ne réagissent nullement comme s’ils étaient
au pays (p. 6). De plus, certains ne connaissent plus la langue amazighe.

 

Pouessel tend de trouver des excuses pour une recherche majoritairement
excentrée par rapport au terrain (l’Atlas et le Sud marocain). Chevauchant
peut-être là le dada de son directeur de thèse, elle « envisage les différents
champs d’inscriptions de l’ethnicité et d’opérer ainsi à sa démystification »
(p. 8). Il est clair, cependant, qu’elle s’est rendue au Maroc à plusieurs
reprises afin de mieux s’imprégner de la réalité amazighe. Démarche nécessaire
pour une quasi-néophyte en questions ès-berbères.

 

Pour ce qu’il en est des dynasties du « groupe berbère », on notera que les 
Almoravides sont venus avant (non pas après) les Almohades. Avancer une supposée
absence d’écriture en ces temps-là comme obstacle à l’unité linguistique ne
tient pas la route.  La majorité des ruraux habitant les plaines atlantiques
entre le XIe et XIIIe siècle, amazighophones, parlaient une langue proche de la
Tachelhit, nommée lisan al ġarbi. Celle-ci pouvait se rédiger en caractères
arabes, à l’image des nombreux travaux écrits des ṭṭelba du Souss (p. 14) ;
il existait par ailleurs des dictionnaires arabo-berbères afin de faciliter la
tâche aux usagers (cf. N. van den Boogert, 1998). Largesse d’esprit médiévale
contrastant positivement avec la période post-coliniale de la fin du 20ème
siècle.

 

La thèse selon laquelle la renaissance berbère repose uniquement sur l’élite
intellectuelle de Rabat (véritable nébuleuse imaginaire créée de toutes pièces
par Pouessel, et qu’elle évoque plusieurs fois dans son ouvrage, pp. 102, 128 &
167) ne constitue qu’une demi-vérité. Si les universitaires marocains, notamment
ceux de la diaspora y ont puissamment contribué, certes, la part des gens du
cru, du fin-fond du bled, surtout depuis l’émergence du sentiment de hogra,
n’est pas négligeable. [Bien que ne citant pas explicitement le terme hogra,
l’auteur semble y faire allusion lorsqu’elle signale l’essaimage des
revendications identitaires amazighes vers les « zones rurales périphériques »
(p. 107).]

 

En revanche, il est erroné de prétendre qu’il existe une unité culturelle
berbère, la planète amazighe – c’est bien connu – comptant de multiples
composantes chacune marquant des nuances (p. 16).

 

Il aurait fallu aussi signaler que « l’arabisation des berbérophones », en cours
depuis treize siècles, a pour corollaire un bilinguisme fort actif et que cela
ne fonctionne pas à sens unique ; la langue amazighe, a force de cohabiter avec
fusḥa, a produit dariža, ce que reconnaît du reste l’auteur (p. 159).

 

A mon avis on fait fausse route en apposant l’étiquette commode du
« subalternisme » sur le renouveau amazigh alors que celui-ci est dans l’air du
temps, allant de pair avec la réhabilitation des peuples autochtones et de la
culture orale (pp. 22-23).

 

Les évènements de 1994 à Goulmima, qui serviront de déclic politico-culturel
dans la lutte identitaire amazighe au Maroc, sont mentionnés (p. 24, également
pp. 53, 59, 63 & 129) sans plus de détails. Quant à l’officialisation de
l’Amazigh, à propos de laquelle Pouessel exprime des réserves, c’est chose faite
depuis juillet 2011.

 

Il existe malheureusement beaucoup de désinformation à propos de la
standardisation de cette langue. En fait, plutôt à l’aise entre les diverses
variétés dialectales, les Imazighen parviennent à un certain degré de
compréhension mutuelle qui tend à démontrer que la standardisation se fera non
seulement grâce à l’IRCAM, mais aussi et surtout grâce à l’interaction des
intéressés. Les 22 étudiants berbères marocains qui fréquentent mon cours de
littérature orale en sont l’illustration vivante.

 

Le chapitre sur « L’arabe : langue et culture du nationalisme marocain », hormis
qu’il fasse remonter la dynastie alaouite au XIIème siècle (!!), nous livre un
résumé satisfaisant de la question. Cependant, on y trouve un aperçu biaisé,
schématisé du dahir berbère et l’on fait la part belle au salafisme en
négligeant le wahhabisme. On omet de signaler que l’IERA a été fondé
explicitement comme contrepoids à l’IRCAM – combat d’arrière-garde – pour
défendre fusḥa, alors que dariža est la langue nationale de l’écrasant majorité
des Marocains (pp. 27-32). Quant au « complexe de la berbérité » celui-ci
remonte aux années de l’immédiat post-Protectorat, avec son obnubilation
moyen-orientale et le « tout pour l’arabe » mâtiné d’influences jacobines; tout
ceci précédant de quelques années le regain d’intérêt universelle pour les
langues vernaculaires, dont entre autres le Breton, le Catalan, le Gaëlique, le
Gallois, phénomène déterminant dont a grandement bénéficié la langue amazighe.

 

Concernant les Noirs on retiendra que beaucoup d’entre eux sont berbérophones,
mais qu’Essaouira-Mogador (tassurt), capitale des Haha (iḥaḥn), où se déroule le
très branché festival des ignawn ne fait pas partie du « sud marocain », mais du
Maroc atlantique (p. 47). A la p. 50 on frôle le farfelu avec l’amalgame
Mogador-lusophonie-Brésil.

 

Quant à la faiblesse de la tendance « amazighisante » chez les Chaouïs de
l’Aurès (p. 57), il suffit de visionner le film La maison jaune, au dialogue
tout entier en tašawit, pour se persuader du contraire.

Il est vrai, aussi, que bon nombre de jeunes de Rachidia (Imteghren) effectuent
leurs études en Agadir, d’où la confusion faite par l’auteur entre Sud-Est et
Sud-Ouest marocain (p. 61). Si, par ailleurs, certains militants de Tinghir
traitent l’IRCAM d’iršan (‘saleté’), ils conservent la célèbre et incontournable
lettre z emphatique, signe berbère passe-partout. A ce titre, l’auteur aurait pu
mentionner le militantisme de la chanteuse Fatima Tabaamrant qui, sur scène,
fait le salut amazigh des krad iḍuḍan (‘trois doigts’). L’auteur semble
également faire sienne certaines opinions critiques à l’égard de l’IRCAM, en
oubliant un peu vite que cet organisme a le mérite d’exister ; qu’il a mis en
place l’enseignement de la Tamazight, facilité la recherche sur le terrain,
organisé de nombreux colloques et produit une trentaine de publications dans le
domaine des études amazighes – chose impensable sous Hassan II. Prétendre que
cet organisme cherche « à tuer l’amazighité » (p. 126) est une inexactitude
notoire.

 

L’auteur semble encore cautionner les idées « istqlaliennes » concernant le
dahir berbère, en évoquant des arguments issus d’une mythologie anticoloniale
actuellement dépassée. De nos jours il est vrai, c’est du « dahir de 1930 » que
parlent les militants amazighs, ou du « dahir de l’Istiqlal », ce qu’admet
l’auteur du bout des lèvres (p. 83). Du reste, elle a tendance à prendre pour
argent comptant un important corpus de littérature révisionniste (Ageron,
Hammoudi, Laroui, & al. des années 1960-2000) qui s’emploie à brouiller les
cartes. Ainsi assiste-t-on à une caricature de la recherche coloniale sur les
Berbères, celle-ci étant qualifiée de « racialiste » (p. 69). Ceci est en phase
avec certains chercheurs de l’actuelle génération, à tendance quelque peu
« misérabiliste », qui cherchent a posteriori à disqualifier la philosophie de
leurs devanciers en leur collant des étiquettes peu flatteuses. C’est oublier un
peu rapidement la sympathie que des « Berbérisants » comme Roux éprouvaient à
l’égard des ces populations – du souvenir de leur passage qu’ils ont laissé chez
elles. Roux qui avait parfaitement compris qu’il était vain de rechercher une
langue amazighe pure, dépourvue d’arabismes.

 

Quant à l’interprétation de l’histoire de l’AFN des chercheurs de l’époque
coloniale celle-ci ne cherchait pas à minimiser l’islamisme médiéval (p. 71) ;
elle tendait simplement à affirmer qu’il y avait eu un riche passé préislamique.
A ce propos on s’en prend avec délectation à Robert Montagne, une des cibles
préférées des historiens révisionnistes, alors que ce chercheur a réalisé une
étude très fine (Pouessel l’a-t-elle seulement lue ?) des sociétés du haut Atlas
occidental.

 

Nous ne polémiquerons pas avec l’auteur sur le « mythe kabyle », ni à propos de
la politique coloniale de Lyautey au Maroc, nous étant exprimé par ailleurs sur
ce deuxième sujet (pp. 74-78). Il en va de même des « réserves de barbares
blancs » (Peyron, 2009) chères à Jacques Berque.

 

D’un autre côté Pouessel a raison de mettre en relief l’importance accordée par
les Imazighen à la notion de « marocanité » (p. 93, tamġrabiyt).

 

L’auteur évoque une fois de plus cette élite berbérophone de Rabat en tant que
« moteur » de l’amazighité (p. 102), en oubliant la contribution significative
des intellectuels amazighs issus directement du bled (A. Iken, Z. Ouchna, H.
Yakobi, H. Khettouch, A. Skounti, etc.), dont certains n’ont pas fait d’études
en Europe.

 

Au sujet du droit coutumier il est vrai que l’on cherche à le réactualiser ;
vrai aussi que la prison ne fait pas partie de l’arsenal juridique des izerfan,
la peine de mort non plus pour la plupart d’entre eux. Il est, par contre
inexact de prétendre que la peine capitale était inexistante (p. 121) ; des cas
de précipitation du haut d’un rocher sont cités par Berque (Structures sociales
du Haut Atlas, 1955), ainsi que par Gellner (Saints of the Atlas, 1969).

 

Le chapitre sur la « datte pourrie » réussit le tour de force de schématiser en
une phrase (p. 125) près de trente ans de résistance anticoloniale dans le
Sud-Est marocain. C’est vraiment faire « bon marché » des épopées du Tazigzaout,
du Bou Gafer, du Baddou, et j’en passe, sites de mémoire en voie de
sacralisation où tant d’Imazighen ont donné leur vie. Par contre, il est clair
que certains jeunes militants du Sud marocain pratiquent actuellement un
« jeunisme » exacerbé et injustifié lorsqu’ils proclament à l’intention des
premiers militants de Goulmima : « L’histoire vous oubliera. (p. 128)» Ce n’est
en tout cas pas vrai en ce qui concerne Ali Iken, auteur du premier roman en
langue amazighe, asekkif inzaden, car mes étudiants lui ont réservé un accueil
plutôt enthousiaste lorsqu’il est venu la semaine dernière faire une
intervention dans mon cours.

 

Autre point important : on notera que bien que de nombreux festivals amazighs
soient régulièrement organisés (p. 131) il faut tout de même relever en
parallèle une volonté assez forte de « dé-folkloriser » la culture berbère.

 

Qu’on le veuille ou non, pour des raisons pratiques d’universalité, c’est la
graphie latine, plutôt que l’écriture arabe ou les Tifinagh (pp. 139-140, 153),
qui demeure très largement utilisé dans le monde universitaire. Ce qui n’est pas
incompatible avec une utilisation, souvent décorative et limitée des Tifinagh,
ce qui sert à donner à l’amazigh une profondeur historique (pp. 147-148).
Cependant, la souplesse reste de mise. En effet, les claviers des ordinateurs de
l’IRCAM comportent des touches permettant de passer d’une graphie à l’autre
quasi-instantanément.

 

En définitive, la querelle autour de la standardisation de l’amazigh ou du
maintien de « standards régionaux » (pp. 163-165), entre l’IRCAM et des
chercheurs basés en France comme Abdellah Bounfour et Salem Chaker, me semble à
la fois byzantine et contre-productive. Mon expérience du terrain tend à
démontrer que des Imazighen aux idées ouvertes, et ayant voyagé à travers leur
pays, peuvent fort bien s’adapter à d’autres variantes de l’amazigh que la leur.
Sans vouloir dénigrer les efforts de l’IRCAM, ce sont par conséquent les
locuteurs natifs de la langue, dans leur grande diversité, qui aboutiront en son
temps à une forme de standardisation de fait, tout en respectant la tamġrabiyt.

 

Constatation édifiante : on ne peut qu’être d’accord avec l’auteur lorsqu’elle
affirme : « C’est clair, l’amazighité constitue bien le substrat de la culture
marocaine aussi bien démographiquement que culturellement. (p. 161)» Enfin,
malgré les quelques réserves émises ci-dessus, on peut féliciter Stéphanie
Pouessel d’avoir en un temps relativement restreint fait le point sur un
problématique plutôt complexe, aux multiples facettes, et où il est malaisé de
trouver des explications simples à une situation confuse, fruit d’une longue
histoire suivie d’une période de recherche identitaire de la part des Imazighen.

 

michael.peyron@voila.fr

 

 

 

Publié dans General Berber History | Pas de Commentaire »




ANALYSE THÉMATIQUE CONTE « LES TOURS JAUNES »

Posté par Michael Peyron le 8 janvier 2012


Aïcha OUZINE

Etudiante Master LCA

FLSH Rabat

S1, cours ‘Lectures de textes’ de Michael Peyron

 

Analyse thématique du conte lbruj iwraġn, tiré de Textes dans le parler des Aït
Seghrouchen de la Moulouya de Jean Pellat, (Paris,1955, pp. 30-37).

 

Le conte lbruj iwraġn  (‘Les Tours Jaunes’) est extrait de l’ouvrage sur les Aït
Seghrouchen de la Moulouya de Jean Pellat, Ce conte est présenté en une version
amazighe, et une autre en français traduite par l’auteur. Le texte en question
relève de la tradition orale amazighe, laquelle est un héritage collectif et
dispose d’une structure linguistique particulière. Cette littérature est
également un enseignement et engage la société. Elle est tout simplement le
porte-parole de la pensée et des valeurs collectives.

Et c’est dans ce cadre que relève notre conte, objet de l’analyse.

 

Mais d’abord qu’est-ce  qu’un conte ? Le conte est un récit de pure fiction,
l’héritage d’une tradition, d’une mémoire collective où le conteur puise tout en
y imprimant sa marque propre. Le conte répond au besoin intérieur d’une
communauté de culture et d’intérêt, et il est aussi exutoire à toutes sortes de
frustrations. Il est également une forme privilégiée de loisir dans la société
traditionnelle où la dimension ludique et l’ironie ne sont pas absentes.

 

Le conte lbruj iwraġn est situé dans un cadre spatio-temporel indéfini,
indéterminé, et fort loin dans le passé. Aucune mention du temps n’est faite,
même pas l’une de ces expressions très connues des contes, à savoir, « Il était
une fois… », « Il y a bien longtemps… », ou encore « En ce temps-là… ». Quant au
cadre géographique, quelques mentions par-ci par-là pour situer l’histoire dans
un milieu merveilleux où l’imaginaire croise le réel pour nous présenter un
monde autre.

 

Quand on parle de conte, on parle d’une histoire et d’un récit. Les acteurs de
ce récit sont les personnages. Ils peuvent être humains comme ils peuvent être
des animaux ou des arbres.

Notre conte est par excellence un conte merveilleux où les personnages humains
et animaliers vivent en cohabitation et/ou en confrontation. Leur  intérêt  ne
réside pas dans leur psychologie mais dans la fonction qu’ils occupent dans le
récit.

 

La lecture du conte nous a permis de dégager plusieurs types de personnages. Et
nous pouvons les classer comme suit selon leur apparition dans le texte :

-       Le mari : homme sans enfant, chasseur, ramenant chaque jour sept perdrix
à la maison, mais également cultivateur car labourant un champ,

-       L’épouse : femme sans enfant, qui après avoir supplié Dieu, enfanta
d’une fille sortie de son petit orteil,

-       La fille : fille magique, née du petit orteil de sa mère, épouse du
chasseur, une fois chez le roi, elle n’est plus considérée comme telle, elle est
appelée ‘femme’,

-       La perdrix qui nourrit la fille cachée,

-       Le petit moineau, substitut de la fille pour épouiller la barbe du père,
le mari de la mère,

-       Le roseau de la forêt d’un roi et qui abrite la fille,

-       Les chameaux et chamelles en pâturage dans le bois du roi,

-       Le roi : propriétaire du bois, et celui qui a récupéré les trois
morceaux du roseau qui abritait la fille,

-       Le berger : berger du roi, gardien des chameaux et chamelles dans le
bois,

-       Le garde : annonciateur de la corvée générale pour la coupe des roseaux
qui constituent la cachette de la fille,

-       Un travailleur du roi : participant à la corvée de la coupe des roseaux,
qui coupa le fameux roseau en trois morceaux,

-       La femme du roi : femme et épouse suspectant son mari le roi de lui
mentir à propos de la présence d’une personne tierce dans la chambre de l’étage
supérieur,

-       Le fkih : l’auteur de la lettre au roi pour qu’il parte en campagne au
bord de mer,

-       Le valet : valet du roi, scellant son cheval, et gardien des sept clés
qui ferment les sept portes derrière lesquelles est cachée la fille-femme
l’héroïne),

-       Le coq : le complice de la femme du roi, enfin sa première femme, et
celui qui a retrouvé les sept clés,

-       La bague : en possession de la fille-femme, laissée à la première femme
du roi, elle sera le lien entre la fille et son roi, annonciatrice du départ de
la fille, au début mais annonciatrice du retour du premier roi à la fin et
symbole de l’union et de l’amour,

-       Le roi : le deuxième roi, qui épousa la fille-femme, propriétaire des
Tours Jaunes,

-       Le cheval : cheval du premier roi, qui accepte d’être sacrifié pour
aider le roi, son maître dans sa quête de la fille-femme,

-       L’oiseau : le guide du premier roi, et son transporteur vers les Tours
Jaunes, l’oiseau aux sept flacons de sang et sept morceaux de viande,

-       L’aisselle : aisselle du premier roi, ultime recours du roi pour la
poursuite de sa quête et son voyage aux Tours Jaunes,

-       La négresse : négresse de la fille-femme devenue simplement épouse du
deuxième roi des Tours Jaunes,

-       Le roi : mort du deuxième roi et victoire du premier roi, le héros et
l’amour de la fille-femme,

-       Les administrés du deuxième roi devenus les administrés du premier roi.

 

Selon Vladimir Propp, les personnages sont classés en sept catégories et ce
d’après les fonctions qu’ils peuvent accomplir.

Maintenant que nous avons énuméré nos personnages (humains, animaux, plantes,
arbres, objets inanimés devenus animés) dans le conte, nous allons les classer
selon leur importance dans le déclenchement et l’enchaînement de l’histoire :

-           le héros : celui qui vit l’histoire et qui est toujours à la
recherche de l’objet de sa quête. Ce héros peut être la fille magique comme le
premier roi, celui qui a bravé tous les obstacles pour retrouver la femme qu’il
aime. Ces deux héros sont les sujets de l’histoire, chacun de son côté se voit
attribué une quête (objet) :

 * la fille envoyée par la mère (l’initiatrice ou destinatrice) amener le
   déjeuner à son père le chasseur, mais qui veut l’épouser dés qu’elle fait son
   apparition devant lui, ne sachant qu’il s’agit de sa fille, une fille
   finalement engendrée par la mère seulement, la semence du mâle n’y
   intervenant pas, et en le fuyant, elle déclenche l’histoire du conte.
 * le premier roi, car à cause de l’agissement de son épouse (l’initiatrice) et
   également le nœud de l’histoire, causant la fuite de la fille cachée, ce qui
   déclenche également le voyage du héros et la quête chevaleresque pour
   atteindre l’objet du désir qu’est la fille magique. Il est également le
   destinataire, celui à qui va profiter la quête.

-    le donateur : qui a ce que le héros cherche. Ici, nous pouvons citer la
mère de la fille,

-    l’adjuvant ou l’auxiliaire: qui aide les héros :

 * (perdrix, le petit moineau, le roseau, les chameaux  et chamelles, le berger,
   le garde, le travailleur du roi, le valet : valet du roi, la bague, le
   cheval, l’oiseau, l’aisselle, la négresse, les administrés du premier roi et
   sans le savoir deviennent ceux du premier roi.

-          l’opposant ou l’adversaire qui fait obstacle face à l’héros ou qui
tend des pièges pour que le héros n’arrive pas à atteindre son objectif et
l’objet de sa quête :

 *   le père de la fille qui cause la fuite de la fille, car il lui a proposé de
   l’épouser, et pour elle, sachant qu’il s’agit de son père, il faut partir au
   loin pour ne pas tomber dans le pêché et consommer l’inceste.
 * La femme du roi : femme et épouse suspectant son mari le roi de lui mentir à
   propos de la présence d’une personne tierce dans la chambre de l’étage
   supérieur, et donc par jalousie pousse à la fuite de la rivale des bras de
   son amoureux.
 * Le fkih : l’auteur de la lettre au roi pour qu’il parte en campagne au bord
   de  mer.
 * Le coq : le complice de la femme du roi, enfin sa première femme, et celui
   qui a retrouvé les sept clés.

 

Concernant ce volet de l’analyse qu’est la scène géographique, rares sont nos
observations :

 * Lieu d’habitat de la fille avec ses parents : Est-ce une cabane, une petite
   ou une grande maison, bien meublée ou dénuée de tout confort ? Aucune mention
   n’est donnée, pas un détail qui échappe au narrateur ou à l’auteur.
 * Champs du labeur : mani icerrez… (endroit où il labourait…) : pas un détail
   sur la superficie, ni sur la nature du champ, ni sur les arbres qui peuvent y
   être si jamais ils y sont. Juste une mention des ibrain (semoule ou orge
   présente sur le champ).
 * Le bois du premier roi : lieu de pâturage des chameaux et chamelles du roi,
   lieu également où on voit de nombreux roseaux dont l’un abritant la fille.
 * L’habitation du roi : ġer taddart inu (‘chez lui’), où l’on sait qu’il y a
   une chambre au premier étage où sera transportée la fille dans le fameux
   roseau au début, et où fut cachée la fille des regards de l’épouse du roi,
   une chambre qui tout de même est située derrière sept portes.
 * La côte : lieu où l’épouse du roi va envoyer son mari le roi afin de
   découvrir ce qui se tramait derrière elle au premier étage.
 * L’entrée de la maison imi n-taddart (‘l’entrée de la maison)’ : celle du roi,
   pas de description non plus.
 * Lieu où est présent le fumier : lieu donc où seront enterrées les sept clés,
   ceci dénote la présence du bétail et certainement d’une écurie puisque le roi
   va enfourcher son cheval pour le voyage vers la mer, et déjà un coq cité dans
   le corps du texte,
 * Tours Jaunes : lieu lointain que désigna la fille, en fuite de la jalousie de
   la femme du roi,
 * La source : celle des Tours Jaunes, où la négresse vient puiser de l’eau,
 * Pièce de l’étage supérieur : où sera transporté le premier roi dans le fameux
   ahser (‘natte’) pour être caché des regards, surtout du regard de l’époux de
   la fille-femme, et donc le deuxième roi,
 * Une pièce, enfin une autre pièce où la femme ramène un sabre, objet adjuvant
   qui saura libérer la femme, objet de la quête, du mariage au deuxième roi et
   donc agent du retour de celle-ci à son amoureux, le premier roi.

 

L’époque où le conte est situé n’est guère mentionnée, ni encore celui du temps
de la narration du conteur. Rien dans le texte ne trahit l’époque qui accentue
finalement le côté merveilleux du conte, le conte étant dans ce sens utile à
tous les temps et à tous les lieux.

Quant à l’action : le conte relate les fuites de la fille magique, une fois de
son père qui voulait l’épouser et une fois de la jalousie de la femme du premier
roi. Le conte raconte également les pérégrinations du premier roi, qui est le
héros. Tous les obstacles rencontrés en cours de route par nos deux héros, chose
qui ne fera que tenir en haleine leur amour qui les mettra face à plusieurs
épreuves.

Revenant un peu à la thématique du conte : au sens large, le thème qui est
traité est le pêché de l’inceste, la jeune fille fuyant son père de peur de la
relation incestueuse, sachant qu’il comptait se marier avec elle, lui ne sachant
que la fille fut conçue dans l’orteil de sa femme.

Au sens plus précis, il est question de l’amour, le vrai qui vient à bout de
tout. Nos deux héros sont passés par plusieurs épreuves. Il a fallu qu’ils se
cherchent pour se retrouver. C’est aussi le thème de l’amour mérité, si le roi
n’était pas curieux de savoir ce qui parlait dans son bois, il n’aurait jamais
pu rencontrer la fille magique.

S’il ne l’avait pas caché des regards, cela n’aurait jamais attisé la curiosité
et par la suite la jalousie de sa femme.

Si la fille-femme n’a pas laissé sa bague, le roi ne l’aurait jamais retrouvée,
et donc n’aurait jamais mérité l’amour de la belle.

Maintenant que nous avons fait le tour du volet thématique du conte, nous
pourrons passer à la technique d’usage dans ce texte. Le conte, comme relevant
de la tradition orale amazighe, n’a pas forcément été changé ou augmenté par
l’auteur dans ce passage à l’écrit. Nous pensons que l’auteur n’a fait que
transcrire le conte comme il lui a été annoncé lors de sa collecte et qu’il a
omis d’annoncer la formule d’entrée ou peut-être que son conteur avait fait
pareil avant lui.

Pourtant, l’on remarque vers la fin du conte la présence de la formule de la fin
teqḍa lḥažit nnex, ur qdin yirden t-temzin (‘Notre histoire est achevée, mais le
blé et l’orge ne sont point épuisés’).

L’action commence dés que le père soupçonne la présence d’une personne tierce et
qui mange la septième perdrix. L’entrée en scène de la fille magique se fait
lorsqu’on a compris que la septième perdrix lui est destinée, sachant déjà que
le chiffre sept (7) est fatidique dans les contes merveilleux et populaires.

Et à proprement parler, l’action commence dés lors qu’elle est allée porter à
manger à son père, celui-ci ne pouvant savoir que la fille serait sienne, il la
demande en mariage. Sa fuite enfin déclenche l’action. Le paragraphe 5 condensé
(au fait il est une compilation de trois paragraphes 98, 99 et 100) nous tient
en haleine. On est face à un suspens. Que va-t-il advenir de la fille maintenant
que le roseau se fait couper en petits bouts ? Le summum de l’action est sans
nul doute deux moments :

Le premier est quand le premier roi est du retour de son voyage à la mer, voyage
en fausse alerte préparé par son épouse et ne trouvant plus la fille magique
dans la chambre sise derrière les sept portes, Ce moment est fatidique car
porteur de sens. L’épouse transgresse l’interdit en se servant du coq pour
découvrir l’énigme et le secret jalousement gardé par le roi. (Paragraphe 105).

Le second moment vient au paragraphe 106. En effet, quand le roi soupçonne la
manigance de sa jalouse d’épouse, il la tue et le coq avec. Voilà une entrave au
bonheur du roi écartée.

Ce moment-là porte en lui une incitation à l’action ultérieure. Le symbole de la
bague magique, cet adjuvant, suscitera plus de suspens encore. L’action
s’accentuera encore. La fameuse phrase prononcée par la fille magique : ‘qui
m’aime n’a qu’à me suivre aux Tours Jaunes’.

Ces Tours Jaunes représentent une autre épreuve pour le roi pour gagner l’amour
et l’admiration de la fille.

Les adjuvants se font nombreux à ce moment de l’histoire. Muni de la bague
magique, et de son cheval cet autre adjuvant, la suite dans l’histoire nous en
dira en quoi, le héros rencontre un autre auxiliaire, c’est-à-dire l’oiseau qui
le transportera et le rapprochera de son amour.

En chemin, un autre adjuvant, cette fois, il s’agit de la négresse des Tours
Jaunes, entre en jeu. Elle ramènera le héros jusque chez sa bien-aimée.

Les retrouvailles sont faites enfin. Mais surgit  un autre adversaire, cette
fois c’est le dernier. C’est le propriétaire des Tours Jaunes, ce vieux roi et
également époux de la fille.

L’action sera dénouée enfin quand le premier roi arrive aux Tours Jaunes et
qu’il tuera le deuxième roi qui est le symbole du rival et de l’élément qui
pourrait entraver l’obtention de la récompense du héros à savoir pouvoir jouir
enfin de consacrer son amour.

Notre histoire racontée, sa raison s’explique. Une morale est à en tirer.
D’abord, un bébé ne peut être conçu par un parent à lui seul, sinon, il est
judicieux d’en parler en couple. Car l’autre parent, étant induit en erreur,
peut déclencher une relation incestueuse. Comportement  à bannir dans la
société.

Une autre morale est véhiculée par le conte. Il est question de l’amour mérité.
L’amour n’est vrai que lorsqu’il résiste à plusieurs épreuves et aux aléas du
temps. L’amour se fait fort et gagne sa raison d’être.

Adressé aux enfants lors des veillées nocturnes, le conteur fait usage d’un
style simple, sans toutefois tomber dans la platitude. Les mots sont choisis,
soignés.

Les termes comme ikker (95 & 96 & 100 & 101 & 106 & 107), traḥ (97 & 98 & 104 &
105 & 110), tekker (97 & 104 & 105 & 107), iraḥ (101 & 105 & 106 & 107 & 109),
tebbit… (100), yawi-t, … yasi-t, yasi-t, …yawi-t (102 & 103), yasi… yawi….
(107), yasi (108), etc.… les termes également comme iwa…, allud…’ ou ‘llud…
constituent les chevilles du texte narratif et deviennent nécessaires pour la
continuité du déroulement des événements allant en s’accentuant. Le texte du
conte est par excellence narratif, ce qui nous amène à dire que les phrases sont
précises, ciblées, courtes contrairement au texte descriptif où les phrases sont
longues et où le détail est roi. Ici, ce sont les verbes exprimant l’action qui
l’emportent sur le reste.

Le conte est dit dans une langue et une musique prosaïque très fluide afin d’en
faciliter l’écoute. Toutes ces techniques sont bonnes pour capter l’attention de
l’auditoire et de l’assistance (quand il est raconté aux enfants) et au lecteur
potentiel comme notre cas.

Somme toute, ce conte des lbruj iwraġn objet de notre analyse, se rattache au
répertoire de la littérature orale amazighe. Mais l’on ne peut parler de
l’apport de l’auteur ici car le conte en question est rapporté du répertoire
commun des amazighes et il relève donc de l’héritage commun.

Aïcha OUZINE

 

Publié dans Berber oral Literature | Pas de Commentaire »


TAZIZAOUT ET BADDOU: NOTE DE RECHERCHE SUR DES HAUTS LIEUX DE LA RÉSISTANCE
AMAZIGHE

Posté par Michael Peyron le 3 janvier 2012

 

 TAZIZAOUT ET BADDOU : NOTE DE RECHERCHE SUR DES HAUTS LIEUX DE LA RÉSISTANCE
AMAZIGHE, HAUT ATLAS MAROCAIN (1932-1933) 

Michael PEYRON 

Introduction 

Il s’agit ci-après de signaler les grandes lignes d’un travail en cours ayant
déjà donné lieu à quelques publications(1), sur deux des sites de résistance les
plus prestigieux des Imazighen du Haut Atlas oriental : le Jbel Tazizaout et le
Jbel Baddou (1932-33). Lors des dernière campagnes de l’Atlas marocain, ultime
étape d’une guerre qui durait depuis près de trente ans, de nombreux combattants
de la montagne ont trouvé la mort en défendant leur sol natal. Alors qu’après
l’indépendance du Maroc ces faits ont été longtemps occultés. Cependant, depuis
la fondation de l’IRCAM, une oeuvre méritoire de mémoire a été enfin
entreprise. 

Par l’âpreté et la durée des combats, ainsi que du fait des moyens militaires
mis en oeuvre par l’envahisseur, ces deux batailles méritent une place à part.
Dans chaque cas, l’effectif de plusieurs bataillons, relevant de divers
commandements, fut mis en ligne, épaulés par des armes automatiques,
l’artillerie, l’aviation, voire des blindés. Face à eux les imžuhad, avec des
moyens dérisoires, terrés dans des grottes ou des tranchées, armés de leurs
seuls fusils et d’un courage inébranlable, tenaillés par la faim et la soif,
subissaient des bombardements, disputaient chaque mètre de terrain. S’ils ont
été abordés ensemble, c’est que la destinée de ces deux sites est liée ; en
effet, un certain nombre de résistants qui avaient rompu l’encerclement du
Tazizaout, réfugiés chez les Ayt Hadiddou, avaient dû finalement se replier sur
le Baddou. Unies dans la gloire, ces deux montagnes sont pourtant bien
dissemblables. Le Tazizaout, lui, est une ride de plus dans cet océan de vagues
figées que constitue le Haut Atlas oriental marocain. Pas une bien grande
montagne ; simplement une longue arête rocheuse aux flancs drapés de cèdres, de
chênes-verts, clairement visible à l’horizon par beau temps depuis Azaghar Fal.
Malgré une altitude modeste (2 767m) l’hiver elle était régulièrement ourlée de
neige. Ses forêts étaient hantées de singes sur lesquels les panthères de
passage opéraient de périodiques prélèvements. « La verte »(2), (tazizawt) tel
était le nom que lui donnaient les Imazighen de la région. Une réputation de
bout du monde, de lieu austère aux sources rares se rattachait à cette zone
frontière, point de rencontre entre d’importants groupements berbères de haut
mont : Ayt Yahya, Ayt Hadiddou, et Ayt Sokhman. Sidi ‘Ali Amhaouch, grand
thaumaturge de la fin du XIXe siècle séjourna, lors d’une de ses tournées dans
le haut pays, au hameau de Tafza au pied du Tazizaout. Lieu bucolique, propice à
la contemplation, avec ses pieds de vigne sauvage, ses pruniers et buissons de
mûres, ses deux sources : l’une d’eau douce, l’autre saumâtre. Sidi ‘Ali a dû en
ramener une impression de nature indomptée : enchevêtrement de crêtes boisées,
broussailleuses ; de pentes abruptes, de ravins tortueux et de torrents
fougueux, qui en feraient un refuge parfait en cas d’urgence absolue. Une de ces
prophéties apocalyptiques dont il avait le secret prenait forme dans l’esprit de
Sidi ‘Ali et prédisait que Tafza serait l’ultime réduit contre lequel
viendraient buter en vain les colonnes françaises. Prophétie reprise à son
compte après sa mort par son fils ainé Sidi Lmekki. Qui résistera plus d’un mois
(mi-août/mi- septembre 1932), à la tête d’un millier de combattants, contre deux
Groupes Mobiles de l’armée française. 

Le Jbel Baddou, où se déroulera l’ultime épisode de l’épopée de la résistance de
l’Atlas, est une haute montagne (2 921m) isolée et escarpée, surgissant d’un
seul élan au-dessus d’Asoul dans le Haut Ghéris. Avec ses flancs décharnés où ne
s’accrochent que quelques genévriers rabougris, ses rares sources, c’est un lieu
aride et désolé. Visible de très loin, couvert de neige trois mois par an, c’est
un emplacement stratégique important qui domine tous les passages entre les pays
Ayt Merghad et Ayt Hadiddou, groupements voisins, membres de la confédération
Ayt Yafelman, mais qu’opposaient pourtant de périodiques et fratricides combats
; lorsque sonna l’heure de la résistance à l’envahisseur, toutefois, ils avaient
su s’unir. Avec leurs troupeaux et leurs familles quelques centaines d’Ayt
Merghad et d’Ayt Hadiddou s’y étaient retranchés à la fin juillet 1933. Un
terrain truffé de grottes, et de barres rocheuses offre une infinité de
possibilités défensives, dont la dernière poignée de résistants sous Zayd
ou-Skounti et ‘Ali ou-Termoun avait su tirer parti. Comme au Tazizaout, le
Baddou jouissait d’une réputation légendaire : la mule du Prophète Mahomet était
censée y être passée3. Étant donné la sainteté du lieu, comment Dieu
permettrait-il aux incroyants d’y prendre pied ? Finalement, comme au Tazizaout,
l’encerclement de leur bastion montagneux par les forces ennemies, en empêchant
l’arrivée du ravitaillement, eut raison de l’opiniâtreté des défenseurs qui
souffrirent davantage de faim et de soif que de la violence des seuls
bombardements. 

Sorties au Tazizaout 

 

L’auteur de ces lignes a effectué trois sorties sur le terrain. La première,
mandatée par l’IRCAM, se déroula du 18 au 25/08/2005 en compagnie de Houssa
Yakobi, lui-même membre de l’IRCAM et originaire des Ayt Ouirra de Ksiba, ainsi
que de son épouse Michèle. Il s’agissait de visiter les principaux sites du
Tazizaout et d’obtenir des comptes-rendus oraux auprès des vétérans et leurs
proches concernant le déroulement des combats. La deuxième sortie : effectuée du
21 au 24/05/2006, en compagnie de Houssa et Karim Yakobi, Assou et Khadija
Lhatoute de Midelt. Cette boucle au départ d’Ikasen devait nous permettre : 1)
de glaner de plus amples informations concernant les mouvements de Sidi Lmekki
pendant la bataille de Tazizaout ; 2) d’élucider de nombreuses erreurs
toponymiques apparues suite à la comparaison entre la version écrite du général
Guillaume et les comptes-rendus oraux des vétérans et de leurs proches après
repérage sur le terrain; 3) d’obtenir d’autres précisions quant aux déroulements
des combats ; 4) de recueillir un complément de poésie orale. La troisième
sortie 20 au 24/05/2007, en compagnie de Michel Morgenthaler, en traversée
sud-ouest/nord-est (Imilchil-Tounfit) du massif, nous mena de nouveau pour une
prière – toutes confessions confondues – au cèdre sacré du Tazizaout, puis à
Agheddou et à Assaka. 

Observations sur le terrain  

 

Nous avons observé, tout d’abord, à la limite ouest du dispositif défensif du
Tazizaout, le ravin escarpé d’Aqqa n-Tkouchtamt avec ses buissons de buis,
dominé par de falaises parcourues de vires ayant servi d’emplacements de tir aux
résistants4. Dans l’Aqqa n-Mesfergh nous avons examine plusieurs vestiges
d’emplacements de combat enterrés, orientés dans le sens du ravin, de façon à ne
pas s’exposer aux tirs de mitrailleuses de la crête de Tazra au nord, au cas où
l’un des défenseurs allumerait une bougie la nuit. Là où le ravin s’élargit nous
avons repéré plusieurs grands chênes, tisuffa n-sidi lmekki ; c’est là que Sidi
Lmekki aurait installé son campement après avoir quitté Tafza (5). Nous avons
noté la présence près de Tafza, rive gauche de l’Aqqa n-Zobzbat (nom actuel Aqqa
n-Widammen 6), au milieu d’un massif de buis, d’un cimetière de tombes en bois.
Ce fut alors l’occasion de prononcer une prière pour le repos des imžuhad. 

Ayant suivi une sente forestière depuis le haut Aqqa n-Zobzbat, nous débouchons
au Tizi n-Bou Igheliasn, où nous avons trouvé un étui de cartouche, provenant
probablement d’un mousqueton. Devant nous se dresse le sommet escarpé de
Taoujjaâout, site emblématique et théâtre de combats acharnés, dominant l’Aqqa
n-Zourkhelad, où se situaient de nombreux campements d’insoumis d’après
Guillaume qui lui décerne le nom d’Aqqa n-Tefza (7).   Il nous a été intéressant
de recueillir de la bouche du poète amateur Ou-Ben ‘Ali quelques précisions
quant à certains héros du Tazizaout : Baqqour, et ‘Ali Belhacene étaient
originaires des Ayt Hnini ; Mohammed ou-Talb, Bassou ou-Hssein, et Moha
Ouanzzour, venaient tous du village d’Agheddou (Ayt ‘Ameur, Ayt Hadiddou). ‘Ali
ou Ikhelf et Bennaser Lhou (le dernier de Tit n-Blal), étaient des Ayt Sokhman.
Quant à la poétesse Taoukhettalt, elle serait des Ayt ‘Abdi (Tizi n-Isly).
Épouse d’un montagnard aisé, elle avait don sans compter de ses bêtes aux
imžuhad et avait tout perdu après Tazizaout. Sidi ben Hmad, le šrif de Tilmi
(Ayt Hadiddou) à qui l’on prêtait souvent le nom d’Ou-Sidi Bel-Hajj: ses
contingents ne sont pas intervenus directement dans les combats, bien qu’il eût
mené une diversion importante sur le Plateau des Lacs. 

Lahcen Ahaqqar (Ichqern) se battait aux côtés de Sidi Mhand Lmehdi. Il fut amené
à « repartir en dissidence » comme on disait alors, après avoir été spolié par
un mokhazeni autoritaire et profiteur quelque part en Moulouya8. Ce fut
vraisemblablement lui qui captura une mitrailleuse lors de la contre-attaque
nocturne réussie du 6-7 septembre, 1933, contre une position occupée par des
partisans et tirailleurs au « Piton des Cèdres ». Arme dont il fit bon usage
depuis un emplacement sous l’actuel cimetière jouxtant des abris de pèlerins,
battant de ses feux un versant entier, dont le nom perpétue de nos jours son
exploit : Tassameurt n-Ou Haqqar. Une certaine confusion entoure la façon dont
furent tués les deux marabouts guerriers Sidi Mhand Lmehdi et Sidi Lmurtada,
frères de Sidi Lmekki. Lmehdi aurait été abattu d’une balle de fusil Lebel en
combattant des partisans, goumiers et légionnaires au col entre le « Piton des
Cèdres » et la crête du Tazizaout (9). Quant à son frère, Sidi Lmurtada il
serait mort par bombe d’avion après s’être replié sur son campement près de la
source (taġbalut n-tzizawt), par ce que ses proches lui avaient fait remarquer
qu’il était trop exposé sur la crête près du grand cèdre (10). Selon une version
complémentaire, Sidi Lmurtada à été d’abord blessé par balle à l’épaule et à la
hanche, puis ramené à son campement pour y être soigné, pour être finalement tué
par l’explosion d’un obus (11). Détail navrant, enfin, comme comble du
déshonneur, après la reddition il y eut ah’idus n-wiha, la danse du malheur,
exécutée par les femmes dans Aqqa n-Ouchlou (12). 

Sorties au Baddou  

 

Nos investigations au Baddou sont bien moins avancées, en dépit de trois
tentatives en janvier 2007, janvier et mars 2008. La première nous a permis de
pousser une reconnaissance depuis Tiydrine n-Ayt Merghad vers Itto Fezzou et le
Tizi n-Hamdoun, le dernier sous la neige (à l’ouest du Baddou), mais du fait du
froid et de l’absence d’habitants nous n’avons rien recueilli sur le plan de
l’oralité. À Amellago, en revanche, gros village Ayt Merghad excentrée par
rapport au massif, nous avons glané quelques informations intéressantes. Mais,
de toutes façons, soit la montagne était trop enneigée, soit mes compagnons
manquaient d’ardeur pour gravir les hauteurs. Il apparaît qu’une date vers la
fin du printemps s’avérerait plus propice. L’absence d’un gîte valable au pied
du versant nord, base de départ indispensable pour rayonner dans le massif,
constitue un handicap supplémentaire, la mélancolique bourgade administrative
d’Assoul n’offrant que peu de ressources. 

Une sortie sur le terrain, depuis Aghbalou Kerrouch sur la rive droite du Haut
Ghéris en amont d’Assoul, nous mena sur deux anciens sites de campements
militaires de 1933 dominant le ravin d’Aqqa Bou Ikzine Leur rôle consistait à
bloquer les abords nord du Baddou de façon à empêcher toute tentative de fuite
de résistants vers le massif voisin du Jbel Youb. Le premier camp qui pouvait
loger une soixantaine d’hommes, probablement des Tirailleurs, comporte un mur
extérieur et un mur intérieur, mais aucun débris de verre. Détail important.
L’autre site comprend deux enceintes fermées par une murette de pierres sèches
et des ronds de pierres pour des tentes, ainsi que des emplacements plus
conséquents, ayant sans doute abrité des obusiers de 155m/m, ainsi que des
mitrailleuses Hotchkiss. Le site est tout à fait reconnaissable d’après des
photos d’époque dans le livre du reporter britannique Ward Price13. Comme
vestiges, de nombreux débris de verre provenant de deux sortes de bouteilles
(bière et/ou vin) – marque de la Légion – ainsi que des boîtes de conserves
écrasées pouvant avoir contenu du « singe » (14). Hormis quelques fragments
d’oralité, c’est là tout ce que nous avons ramené du Baddou. 

Corpus de la région du Tazizaout  

 

1) itgil ugwerram n-tzizawt (Le cèdre sacré du Tazizaout) 

itgil nnag illan i leεmud, da digs tżallan midden žemuεa.  

iqqur allig ur-iqqim ġas yiwn ušbud.

ih’yu-t rebbi allig azizaw (zzi h’iya lmalik !) aynnag illan, annayġ-t !

 

Les pèlerins se réunissaient pour prier à côté d’un cèdre là sur la pente. 

Puis l’arbre devint squelettique ; il ne restait plus qu’un moignon. 

Le Seigneur l’a ressuscité, l’arbre a reverdi (à l’époque de l’indépendance). 

Cela est stricte vérité, j’en ai été témoin (15)! 

 

Fragment de tamdyazt 

 

2) tεeqqelġ-am, a tazizawt, am lgirra,  

3) hat-in tεawžεutt ur-sar tbalid,  

4) žemmeε leqbel d-uzaġar allig nn  

5) yan inniġ-am iεqba s-ugari,  

6) ššarr iġsan n-irumin d wi  

7) lmužahidin amm idwan ggwašal !  

 

De toi me souviens, Ô Tazizaout, comme d’une guerre, Assurément Taoujjâaout
jamais vieille ne deviendra, 

Ceux de la plaine et de l’Orient contre nous se sont Ligués, avec des armes
perfectionnées nous ont poursuivis, 

Les ossements des Chrétiens sont avec ceux des combattants 

Musulmans entremêlés tels des pierres jonchant le sol (16)! 

 

8) a wa lixra, tella awd žaž n-txamin, (tamawayt taqdimt)  

9) yuf mš inġan iżiyyan, a sidi εli ġurš!  

Si je dois par les Zaïans me faire trucider parmi les campements, 

M’est préférable de tomber à tes côtés, ô Sidi ‘Ali Amhaouch ! 

 

10) meqqar xelfen waman d-tuya, xelfen awd igran, a mulay (tamawayt)  

11) h’mad, ur riġ annaley zirš, ixeşş-aš lmehdi d-tsaεya-nnes!  

Même si revivent eaux, herbage et champs, Ô Moulay Ahmed, 

Vers toi monter je ne puis, car me manquent Lmehdi et son Lebel (17)! 

 

12) ay ayt, ay ayt, ur kwni d-ismun s-aynna išerð ġifun, (ahellel)  

13) adday d-iddu wrumi d-idišl ak-tilim!  

Ô gens des tribus, le premier venu ne le suivez point, 

Lorsque viendra le Chrétien, à Idikel vous vous regrouperez ! 

 

14) annayx afiwn xf tužžut εelm llah (ahellel)  

15) ayyur ay tetššan ist sidi εli!  

 

Des feux sur le Toujjit ayant aperçu, en ce mois ai su que Dieu M’apprenait que
par le danger les filles de Sidi ‘Ali étaient menacées ! 

 

16) ay uššen n-wanargi, a wi n-muriq, aggat ġer (ahellel)  

17) tefza, a-tinnim aferran nna digs illan!  

Ô chacal d’Anergui, et toi son compère du Mouriq, allez surplomber 

Tafza, du brasier qui l’enflamme y serez témoins (18)! 

 

18) ay ayt iqšmirn kku-d awn-qqarx iteqqarn, (tamawayt)  

19) imswa bu-llama day-i-tennit !  

Ô gens des falaises, vous répondez à chacun de mes appels, Sage la parole de
l’homme au regard perçant (19)! 

Fragment de tamdyazt sur le Tazizaout 

 

20) tšix tiġeddiwin d wabu, tšix lfula,  

21) ur-diyi th’adert, ay ul!  

22) a ta, xes ssemarq aman ur-iyin ša nsay-is!  

 

De carde et férule me suis-je nourri, ainsi que d’haricots sauvages, Pour
supporter tout cela n’ai plus le coeur !     

D’eau saumâtre me suis contenté, le ventre vide me suis couché ! 

 

23) nššay ixf i-wh’diddu, nššay-as tazeţţat,  

24) ššix-am ixf, a tmazirt nna wr-issin!  

 

Aculé, chez l’Ou-Hediddou m’en vais, à sa protection m’en remets, 

C’est dans un pays inconnu que je pénètre ! 

 

25) ay aεri, ay aεri nn wadda ur-ikkin ġur ssuq,  

26) ikka yan usiyh’ri nnig-i, iţţef-aġ tanfiðin!  

 

Combien chanceux qui au souk ne s’est point rendu; 

Un avion nous ayant survolé, de bombes nous a arrosés! 

 

27) ikker yan bu zzit ad-irwel, išedd-as uðar,  

28) inġel ġifs uydid, iqqim ar-iðżemma !  

 

Un marchand d’huile dans la fuite le salut chercha, mais glissa, 

Sur lui l’outre se déversa, jusqu’à la dernière goutte l’essora ! 

 

29) ikker yan bu wattay, inġel ġifs lhenna,  

30) a lwali-nu, a wa, llig ur-tekkat ša!  

31) tadžt bunadm, ad-iddu zzik ad-ur-t itfur lεar!  

 

Sur le marchand de thé se déversa le henné ; 

À quoi bon, père, puisque de te défendre tu es incapable! 

Laisse les gens de bonne heure partir, que la honte les épargne ! 

 

32) llulan iširran meżżin, h’adern i ti n-dzizawt yan išiban,  

33) a wayd imun s-aytmas. in-as y-iziyyan: tšat timizar!  

34) ku yass asekkin ad-ilin i ssuq ġas wenn-asen yudern ddaw tlibit!  

 

Des enfants sont nés, l’un eux – un ancien – a assisté aux combats de Tazizaout
; 

Puissé-je mes proches acompagner . Dis aux Zaïans : « Dans les contrées
sévissez! » 

Chacun au marché peut tout trouver, sauf celui qui gît sous le gazon (20)! 

 

Corpus de la région du Baddou  

 

35) ih’ars-aġ baððu yuwey-aġ aman, (izli)  

36) da-ţeşşa leġlubit-inw iselli !  

 

C’est le Baddou qui d’eau m’a privé, 

Jusqu’aux cailloux qui de moi se moquaient! 

 

37) anawiġ izreg anawiġ tuga mek-aġ- (izli)  

38) iqadda weġżaż nselmi akal ula ddellt urumi !  

 

 De plantes ou herbes me contenterais si faisait défaut le grain des Musulmans ;
/

Manger la terre m’est préférable à la domination du Chrétien ! 

 

39) tenna-yaġ nnan ayt h’liddu agg-žran, (izli)  

40) mah’edd asif mellul ur-ihenna !  

S’est produit ce qu’avaient prévu les Ayt Hadiddou, 

Même l’Asif Melloul n’est plus un refuge sûr ! 

 

41) inn-ak bab n-wayyad ur-da-yi-tekkan imnayn, (izli)  

42) uεreġ ay aneždi bu-tsurift !  

 

Le Bab n-Ouayyad te dit : « Aucun cavalier ne peut me Franchir,

Suis difficile même pour le fantassin courageux ! » 

 

43) a hay, a wa, šuf ayd-ssalin ibennawn, (izli)  

44) a hay, a wa, iggall rebbi lebruž rruyen !  

 

Regarde donc ce qu’ont bâti les maçons, 

Dieu a juré de réduire tout cela en ruines ! 

 

45) mer ssineġ idd ad-anġ-issikl, (izli)  

46) is ddiġ s-εari n-baððu wr-nttehwu !  

 

Si j’avais pensé que j’allais être fait prisonnier, 

Aurais rejoins le Baddou, pour y monter bonne garde ! 

 

47) a tislit n-baððu, maxf ur-temmud? (aferradi)  

O fiancée du Baddou, pourquoi n’as-tu pas trépassée (21)? 

 

48) ur-illi wmala y tuga n-wasif (izli)  

49) ar-ittazzla bu meεz ar εari!

 

Tazizaout et Baddou Absent l’herbage ombragé en bordure de torrent, 

C’est vers les hauteurs que s’enfuit le chevrier ! 

 

50) adday ššaran itbirn awġn imendi g wanrar (izli)  

51) ar-isexsarr wi n-εari wi n-iġrem ad-itsmun!  

 

Lorsque s’assemblent les ramiers à picorer grain sur l’aire, 

Celui des monts entraîne celui du bourg (22)! 

 

Fragment de tamdyazt sur l’après-Baddou 

 

52) ay inselmen d-irumin adday tennaġn  

53) išqa lh’al n ku yan ira ad irru wayð!  

 

Lorsque s’affrontent Musulmans et Chrétiens, sont 

Durs les combats, chacun voulant l’autre terrasser ! 

 

54) yaġ-i lεar mš id ul-inw asenðah  

55) ssif ay id ihuzzen zarš, ay afa!  

 

Pénible en mon coeur de la reddition le déshonneur, 

La lame de l’épée est vers toi levée, ô flamme !

 

56) nsul rix lžihad ur-ta-nuh’il,  

57) isul ġurx bab l-luqt asenðah!  

 

Infatigablement je désire encore guerre sainte mener, 

Le Maître de l’Heure cependant envisage de se rendre ! 

 

58) tsemmart tamelli gg-ul-inw ur-tsul!  

59) tuf-i lmutt ula derġ-awn al-ġiyyar!  

 

La bonté en mon coeur n’est plus ! 

Plutôt la mort que de l’existence le chagrin ! 

 

60) nsul rix lžihad ur-ta-neεniq,  

61) nuġul dar-t baððu ar-kkatx!  

 

Je souhaite le combat poursuivre, n’est point vain, 

Revenons derrière le Baddou, faisons le coup de feu (23)! 

 

Poésies frivoles et/ou pédagogiques (toutes régions confondues)  

 

62) tarwa l-luqt, a ššib-i (llġa)

 La jeunesse d’aujourd’hui me fait grisonner le chef !

 

63) ikka wbrid usmun aqšmir (izli)  

64) ur-ssinx magg itεşar uðar ! 

 

 Je ne sais où m’engager, car le sentier 

Que foule le pied de l’ami longe le précipice (24)! 

 

65) wenna yellan zzin iferh’ iy-as ul aynna ran (tamawayt)  

66) wenna yellan mxiba ammi da yferru lbrussi !  

 

Quiconque possède femme belle a le coeur comblé, (distique) 

Quiconque possède femme mauvaise est semblable à celui qui doit 

D’un procès s’acquitter (25)! 

 

67) εayd, a wa, ula ma ġif tiwit azal! (llġa)  

Reviens auprès de moi, ne t’expose point au démon de midi ! 

 

68) ullah, a mr lliġ ixf ur-sar tiţşşaġ, zzεent-i d šraţ mixibbin : (izli)  

69) hat awsser, ha lixra, tager žihennam, mš-i-tumż g winna yiġ !  

Si j’étais sensé, ne sourirais plus. Me traquent trois maux : 

 

Vieillesse et Au-Delà, vous voilà, mais point n’est pire 

Que l’enfer si pour les forfaits que j’ai commis il me châtie (26)!   

 

70) inn-aš ugerru mayd iggan adday iwet umetna? (izli)  

71) aman as-tekkat hay-i žaž n-widdx itteddun!  

 

Ainsi parle grenouille : « Qu’ai-je à faire des ces ondées ? 

Ne sont que pluie ! Or le domaine liquide, déjà j’y suis ! » 

 

72) mr-idd ižmuεen ur-telli ddunit tawuri  

73) lumur ddex asuffen ayt tudert ayt issenðal!  

 

Ah, si ce n’étaient les rencontres ici-bas !

C’est grâce à Cela que les vivants sont meilleurs que les morts ! 

 

74) ur-illi u-lh’amm užaž mš irża iddu,  

75) ula day-iţessa leεqqel nnay iġiyer ša !  

 

Véhicule cassé point ne repart ; c’est 

Ainsi que personne vexée le rire ignore! 

 

76) ay amsafer, mani tamazirt nn-aš-ira wul?  

77) idd εin luh’, idd immuzzar ma tiġessalin ?  

 

Ô voyageur, vers quel pays te mène ton coeur ? 

Vers Aïn Leuh, Immouzzer, ou Tighessaline ? 

 

78) nnan rezzaq abda d-lmižžal ur-sar din, (izli aferradi)  

79) dġi ha rezzaq ismar, lmižžal ur-ta ismir!  

 

On dit que les moyens de subsistance qui te reviennent sont selon ta 

Durée de vie, or richesse s’épuise alors que se poursuit la vie (27)! 

 

80) a tawgrat n-ult εisa allig wadda wr-ssinx  

81) ur-da-ssental midden nna wr-ittubda i-temara!  

 

O Taougrat des Ayt Ayssa, jusqu’à preuve du contraire, 

Sont cachottiers les gens auprès de celui qui la misère ne connaît point (28)! 

 

82) inn-aš sidi ububker, šuf rebbi, šuf aya d ixleq,  

83) raεa ţţir, may-t yulan, allig iqqiman, ur-isseni-d, ur-iskita !  

 

Sidi Bou Bker te dit : « Observe Dieu, observe cette créature, 

Vois cet oiseau, comment vole-t-il sans aide. Ne se repose ni ne tombe ! » 

 

84) awal n-ububker  inn-aš: ih’ey h’edd yan uryaz at-ineġ.  

inn-as ububšer: amur-nš at-qad-ineġ uryaz-a!  

tfeġġ leεmart lkerbus. immet waddax n-ih’eyn aryaz  

ġer sidi ububšer, immut y-imi l-lbab!  

 

A ce qu’on dit un homme se faufilait pour en tuer un autre. 

Sidi Bou Bekr lui dit : « La protection sur celui que tu vas abattre ! » 

La cartouche sortit du fusil mais atteignit alors l’assassin en herbe ; 

Auprès de Sidi Bou Bekr s’effondra, sur le pas de la porte (29)! 

 

85) a tawtat n-ayt dεud u-εezzi

86) ay tnseġ a-tšettabt i-wġyul!  

Ô noir pompon du capuchon d’Ayt Daoud ou-Azzi, 

Je savais que tu étais destiné à être par un âne mangé (30)! 

 

Conclusion 

Voilà donc deux montagnes emblématiques, deux épopées exemplaires de la
résistance marocaine de haut mont, officiellement occultées jusqu’à tout
dernièrement, mais hantant malgré tout l’inconscient collectif des populations
riveraines, tout en affichant, à ce que l’on a vu, certaines différences sur le
plan de la géographie physique. Par ailleurs, si nous avons exposé les résultats
de recherches approfondies en ce qui concerne le Tazizaout, le dossier Baddou,
quant à lui, notamment en matière de collecte sur le terrain, relève quelque peu
de l’inachevé. Raison pour laquelle il convient d’envisager cette note de
recherche en tant que document provisoire, en attendant de conclure le programme
d’ensemble envisagé. NOTES

 

1 Cf. tamdyazt xef tzizawt in A. Roux & M. Peyron, Poésies berbères de l’époque
héroïque, Maroc central (1908-1932), Aix-en-Provence, Édisud, 2002 (pp. 194-200)
; M. Peyron, « le Tazizaout d’après les comptes-rendus des militaires français
de l’époque (1932) et dans l’inconscient collectif », Colloque « Sites de
mémoire et tradition orale amazighe », (M. Peyron, éd.), Ifrane, Al-Khawayn
Press, 2007 : 34-43 ; M. Peyron, « Oralité et résistance : dits poétiques et non
poétiques ayant pour thème le siège du Tazizaout (Haut Atlas marocain, 1932) »,
Études & Documents Berbères, 25-26, 2007 : 307-316.  

2 Une autre version attribuerait le nom à la couleur verte du turban darqaoui,
secte à laquelle étaient rattachés Sidi ‘Ali Amhaouch et sa descendance.  

3 Cf. G. Ward Price, In Morocco with the Legion, London, Jarrolds, 1934 (p.
159).   4 D’après Moha ou Moh Idrissi, Ikasen, le 21/05/2006. 

5 Ou-Ben-Ali (Bou Imtel, Ayt Sokhman) nous expliqua qu’avant de se réfugier dans
l’Aqqa n-Ouchlou, Sidi Lmekki avait campé peu de temps dans un ravin rive
droite, de l’Aqqa n-Widammen appelé Aqqa n’Ali ou Zaïd, le 21/05/2006. Confirmé
par Haddou ou Hammou de Tafza, le 21/05/2007. 6 Le nom de l’Aqqa n-Zobzbat a été
changé par souci de rendre hommage aux morts, car, après le massacre des
résistants, le ruisseau aurait coulé rouge, d’où le nom actuel : « Ravin de Sang
» (aqqa n-widammen). 

7 Cf. A. Guillaume, Les Berbères marocains et la pacification de l’Atlas
central, Paris, Julliard, 1946 (p. 364).  

8 Selon Hmad ou-Ali, Ikasen, le 25/08/2005. 9 Selon Ou-Ben ‘Ali, le 21/08/2005. 

10 D’après Houssa Yakobi, le 20/08/2005. Le grand cèdre est également connu sous
le nom de itgel amažžyal (= ‘cèdre du haut, supérieur’). 11 Selon Sidi Moh
Azayyi, Assaka, le 23/05/2007. 

 

12 Lhajj Nasser Bouqebou, Aghbala, le 24/08/2005.  

13 Cf. G. Ward Price, op. cit., 1934. 

14 Lors de notre dernier voyage au Tazizaout en compagnie de Michel
Morgenthaler, en mai 2007, nous avons trouvé des débris de verre identiques
parmi les ruines d’un ancien poste de la Légion sur la crête à l’est du Tizi
n-Ighil, face au Tazizaout.  

15 Sidi Moh Azayyi, Assaka, Ayt Sidi Yahya ou Youssef, le 18/08/2005. 

 

16 De la bouche de Moha ou Moh Idriss, Ikasen, le 21/05/2006. Ensemble donné
comme série de timawayin, mais s’agissant sans doute d’un fragment de tamdyazt ;
cf. J. Drouin 1975, Un cycle oral hagiographique dans le Moyen-Atlas marocain,
Paris, Sorbonne, 1975, p.128 & M. Peyron, 2007, p. 314. 

 

17 Ce sont des timawayin récitées par Ou-Ben Ali à Taddart Tafraout n-Oumrabd,
le 22/05/2006. La première, d’après les standards locaux, est une tamawayt
taqdimt, morceau ancien remontant probablement à l’époque de la guerre
intermittente entre Zaïan et Ayt Sokhman (1877-1909) au cours de laquelle Sidi
‘Ali Amhaouch appuyait les derniers. Il démontre clairement la vénération dont
faisait l’objet le saint homme auprès de ses ouailles.  La seconde tamawayt, se
référant à Sidi Mhand Lmehdi, marabout guerrier et fin tireur, situe l’action au
temps du Tazizaout. 

 

18 Trois prophéties du type ahellel attribuées à sidi bubšel, un ancêtre de Sidi
Lmekki ayant vécu fin-18ème/début-19ème siècle (Ikasen, soir du 23/05/2006); les
deux premières, récitées par Ou-Ben ‘Ali, constituent des variantes de matériaux
déjà collectés ; (cf. V. Loubignac, Parlers berbères des Zaïan et Aït Sgougou,
Paris, Leroux, 1924, p. 444 ; A. Roux & M. Peyron, Poésies berbères de l’époque
héroïque, pp.190 & 192); la troisième, de la bouche de Moha ou Moh Idrisi
d’Ikasen (Ayt Sokhman), qui semble annoncer les déluges de feu s’abattant sur le
Tazizaout, mais auquel échapperont les gens des environs d’Anergui, est
apparemment inédite. 

 

19 Strophe présentée comme « dit du Tazizaout », awal n-tzizawt, par Sidi Moha
Azayyi, Assaka, Ayt Sidi Yahya ou Youssef, le 23/05/2007.  

20 Demi-douzaine de strophes, recueillies le 02/01/2008 à Ourtan, par Zawit
ech-Cheikh. Vers attribués à Taoukhettalt, célèbre poétesse des années 1930, et
provenant sans doute d’une tamdyazt plus longue, sur l’épopée du Tazizaout.
Ensemble cité de mémoire par Mouna ‘Addi, mère adoptive de Houssa Yakobi, issue
de la famille de Qoujjane Ou-’azzou, célèbre résistant dont les proches sont
actuellement installés à Lmizan à 1 km de Naour, route de Tizi n-Isly. On y
trouve des allusions aux privations des résistants ; à la possibilité, en
dernier recours, de se réfugier chez les Ayt Hadiddou ; au bombardement du souk
de Tanaghmast ; à la veulerie des uns ; au sens du déshonneur qui obsède
d’autres tentés par la soumission (allusion au henné, dont les femmes
badigeonnaient le dos de tout poltron qui fuyait) ; aux résistants retranchés
dans les abris d’Aqqa n-Ouchlou dans l’espoir de se soustraire aux Zaïans.  

21 Distiques traditionnels, izlan, des Ayt Merghad rappelant la dernière
campagne du Jbel Baddou de l’été 1933. Poésies déjà notées par un poète amateur
ou-Merghad, du nom d’Aomar Derouich, dit Taws, remises à l’auteur à Ifrane par
un Ou-Merghad originaire de Goulmima nommé Lahcen, époux d’Ibtissama Sebti,
printemps 2001. Le tout dernier vers, largement connu dans la région du Haut
Gheris, qui exprime la détresse de la fiancée du Baddou dont est mort le futur
époux, serait un exemple de vers isolé, aferradi.  

22 Deux morceaux récités par Hssein Qoujjane, Tiydrine n-Ayt Merghad, Haut
Gheris, le 10/01/2007 ; ces vers ont pour contexte l’époque des combats du
Baddou, où les résistants incitaient les ksouriens à se rallier à eux. 

23 Fragment de tamdyazt, qui nous a été récité par Moha Ou-Sri, à Amellago,
Gheris, le 06/01/2008. Vers attribués à Saïd ou-Hmad ou-Tararout, ancien
compagnon de Zayd Ou-Hmad, le jusqu’au-boutiste des Ayt Merghad, et datant sans
doute du lendemain de la chute du Baddou (fin-1933).  

24 Distique précédé de son refrain ; Haddou Chaouch, cassette entendue à
Tounfit, le 17/08/2005. 

 

25 Ou-Termoun, muqqadam d’Assaka, mari de Labha, Ayt Sidi Yahya ou Youssef, le
18/08/2005 (cf. M. Peyron, Isaffen Ghabanin/ Rivières Profondes, Casablanca,
1993). 

 

26 Il s’agit d’un izli didactique des années 1960, précédé de son refrain
(llġa), de la bouche d’Ou Ben-‘Ali, poète amateur, Bou Imtel, Ayt Sokhman, le
21/08/2005.  

27 Distiques didactiques, dont les 78-79 du genre aferradi, de la bouche d’où
Ben ‘Ali, Tafza, Tazizaout, le 21/05/2006 ; les vers 72-73 et 76-77, quant à
eux, seraient attribuables à Ajouaou, barde de Tirghist, Ayt ‘Ammar ; les 74-75
relèvent du répertoire d’Ali Ou-Mekki de Tounfit. 

 

28 De la bouche de Haddou ou-Hammou ‘Afif, Ighrem n-Tefza, Tazizaout, le
21/05/2007 ; semblerait être une bribe de joute oratoire dont l’un des
protagonistes serait ni plus ni moins Taougrat, la célèbre poétesse aveugle des
Ayt Sokhman d’Aghbala (cf. Reyniers, Taougrat, ou les Berbères racontés par
eux-mêmes, Paris, 1930).  

 

29 Deux « dits de Sidi Bou Bker », récités par Sidi Moha Azayyi, Assaka, Ayt
Sidi Yahya ou Youssef, le 23/05/2007. 

 

30 De la bouche de Hussein Qoujjane, Tiydrine n-Ayt Merghad, Haut Ghéris, le
10/01/2007. Le poète s’adresse sur un ton moqueur à quelque Filali au teint
basané.  

 

 

Publié dans Histoire et culture berbère, Non classé | Pas de Commentaire »


MIDDLE ATLAS WITH YVES AND CATHERINE BIVILLE (JUNE 4-9, 2011)

Posté par Michael Peyron le 18 décembre 2011

Talk about short turn-around time! No sooner had we parted company in Marrakesh
with Eric and Michel than this writer had to hunker down for a few days to
recuperate, what with five grueling GTAM stages behind him and his cardiac
rehabilitation plan into its 10th month.

There were indeed further Atlas walks just around the corner. Another team from
the French Alps were due in Casablanca on June 2, and a formidable combination
at that. No less than Yves Biville, late of the Chasseurs Alpins and an Atlas
veteran backpacker in his own right, plus his nimble, easy-striding spouse,
Cathou.

A pleasant social occasion linked the Zat-Ourika outing and the forthcoming
Middle Atlas stint, when, on the evening of Friday, June 3, we wined and dined
both parties (the more so as they were no strangers to each other) at our place
in Rabat.

June 4th, 2011 Road to Khenifra

Next morning, in sunny weather, the present writer left for Khenifra with the
Bivilles in a Citroen Berlingo van. Just beyond Meknes we had a kebab snack in
Boufekrane. Kebab (brochettes in Fr.) snacks in Morocco are no longer what they
used to be. Gone the days when one could indulge in memorable brochette stops,
sampling tasty skewered meat at unpretentious little bistrots in Settat, Ben
Guerir or Khemisset. With the coming of the motor-way and mass motor-travel,
swanky eating places have proliferated, announcing a marked decline in quality.
Nowadays, it’s usually a case of getting cheerfully ripped off and driving on
with a sour taste in one’s mouth!

A long haul followed through the Adarouch pastures and Zaïan azaghar. Some 20 km
short of Mrirt a collection of arid, steep-looking hills enabled us to work off
our unsatisfactory lunch. For an hour or so we tramped the slopes past herds of
sheep and goats beneath greying skies, while thunder growled far to the west.

It was time we were back on the road. The first rain-drops fell as we started
off across the plateau S of Mrirt. By the time we were at El Borj it was really
coming down in buckets, forcing us off the road for a few minutes till the
downpour had spent its strength. Half an hour later, having earlier booked rooms
by ‘phone, we were checking in at the “Atlas Zayane Hôtel” in Khenifra.

Hotel Zayane Khenifra

A strange, rambling building this, it comes within an ace of being a first-class
hotel. This writer had never actually stayed there, but the Bivilles, who had
been there before, said the place had been improved; largely thanks to a new
wing, while the rooms had been re-done in fairly pleasant style. The reasonably
welcoming ladies at the reception, however, would do well, when talking to
guests, to tear their eyes away from the TV monitors on the wall behind their
desk.

Full marks for the finely-appointed restaurant, with an unbeatable view over
Khenifra town and cattle egrets winging home from distant, storm-beaten hills,
expertly run by a personable young waitress-cum-maître d’. A brief exchange in
Tamazight established that she was a tazayyit (woman from Zayan tribe), that our
order would be honoured by the chef, and that palatable food would shortly be
served. She proved as good as her word and a decent meal soon appeared, washed
down with vino.

Two factors precluded early sleep: 1) the night-club which predictably and
typically (50% of local hotels’ mark-up is accounted for by late drinking) did
its worst, though luckily situated at the other end of the establishment; 2) a
crowd of supporters who greeted with cheers each and every move of some
foot-ball match in the TV lounge. Meanwhile, it rained most of the night,
casting doubts over the morrow’s planned excursion to investigate the hill of
El-Gara, some 10 miles E of Khenifra, and a potential Qala’at al-Mahdi site.

June 5th, 2011Visit to El-Gara

We need not have worried. A hearty breakfast soon sent us on our way under a
cloudy sky, but at least the rain was holding off. On reaching Pt-1027 on the
Agelmam Azigza road we parked the car on the soft shoulder and lost little
stamping off down the muddy track. After a couple of hundred yards a huge puddle
involved a detour through olive groves to the R. Past the cactus we went and
down a tunnel-like path to cross Asif  Ayt Nuh, then upwards opposite through
dispersed hamlet.

Luckily, we met a friendly Berber woman who, on being asked the way to El- Gara,
took the trouble to escort us for ten minutes up the slope, before saying
goodbye with a brief: “Keep on uphill left to the col, then turn right and
you’ll see El-Gara ahead of you.”

We zigzagged upwards through oak and juniper forest into a gully below Aamira’s
cliffs (apparently a nesting-site for Lesser kestrels), over a narrow, rocky
col. El-Gara hill now in full view about one km to our right. Reaching it
entailed negotiating a squelchy path down to the edge of forest; then across
open expanse, skirting wheat-field to lone house with satellite dish and
corrugated iron roof. A couple of Berber ladies confirmed we were on course.

Now along a broad tree-lined track with wheat-fields to our right. Here we
reached another house and were kept on course by a helpful local housewife who
suggested we make a bee line for El-Gara, which entailed a downer and an upper
across a grassy-steep-sided valley. There followed a thistly field. By now
portions of ancient fortification were poking out of the evergreen oak mantle
ahead. We had reached a rival Qala’at al-Mahdi site – rival, that is, to Zawyat
Ifrane (visited four times by this writer) near Mrirt, and previously judged to
be the genuine article.

Part of El Gara fortifications

For the next hour we examined portions of a medieval wall, in places presenting
signs of workmanship remarkable for the period, elsewhere in a sorry state of
disrepair, especially where the locals had been helping themselves down the
years to building material. It was clear that this fortified ensemble had, at
one time, cordoned off the entire hill. The most impressive part was a sort of
citadel, requiring some energetic scrambling to reach its top, with an almost
vertical drop to Oued Chbouka below and a bird’s eye view of Agelmam Oumlil, the
surrounding hills and Adekhsan plain to the W. While defences on the Chbouka
side appeared impregnable, it was clear that a determined enemy could launch a
decisive assault across wheat-fields on the W flank of the hill; which was
probably the angle of attack chosen by the Almohads when they wrested this
fortress from the Almoravids.

 

Or, at least, that is the version preferred by French researcher Arsène Roux,
who (like this writer) judges that Zawyat Ifran and the Tisgdelt plateau (some
15 km NE of Mrirt) better fit historical descriptions of the Qala’at al-Mahdi
site. According to Roux, El-Gara was merely a large Almoravid fortress built at
a slightly later period than the 11th -century Qala’at al-Mahdi. However, Dumas,
another Frenchman who visited in 2004 with local man Saïd Jaafar, is convinced
that El-Gara is the genuine Qala’at site. Serious archeological investigations
on both sites will obviously be required before the enigma can be unravelled.

Leaving El-Gara hill to its choughs, ravens, vipers, sheep and goats we
struggled back down through the oak forest, and reversed that morning’s route
across wheat-fields, walking at a slightly faster pace in an attempt to beat the
rain. Making excellent time we nonetheless lost the race to king-size
thunderheads that discharged their contents within 10 minutes of where we’d
parked the car. Long enough to get well and truly soaked.

We managed to dry off in the car with the heater on and headed N for Azrou,
where we’d booked rooms at the “Hôtel des Cèdres”. We shared the place with a
few other tourists, including two middle-aged, visibly naughty-weekending French
couples who dropped in for dinner at the downstairs restaurant. Then it was
early to bed in centrally-heated rooms.

June 6th, 2011 From Azrou to Oued Zloul

As we left Azrou next morning white clouds were sailing past in a blue sky with
the temperature down to 2°C. A first stop at Ougmès revealed an almost empty,
castle-like Emirati Euro Camping ground. From the brochures handed out by local
staff we gathered the establishment catered mostly for boozing, gut-bashing
European senior citizens during the winter months; plenty of parking space for
their camping cars, at any rate.

Driving on, we stopped at the “Green Door” in Ifran to purchase a couple of
bottles of the local vintage as you never know when the vino can come in handy
in this kind of freak spring weather! Sure enough, once we’d admired stilts and
great-crested grebes at Dayet Awa, unwelcome clouds and the first rain-drops
invited themselves to our picnic lunch near Oued Sebou.

Pushing on we arrived around 2pm at the house of our Berber friend Ayad
Kerouach, near Oued Zloul at the foot of the Ahermoumou escarpment. Our initial
plan to drive on up to the Taffert Hut went up the creek as Ayad talked us out
of approaching Bou Iblan, given the present, unsettled weather and negative
reports regarding condition of access road. Oh well, some you win, some you
lose. You can’t win them all!

So we decided to ride out the unfavourable weather. In the meantime, to work up
an, appetite for dinner, Ayad took us for a walk through the surrounding
countryside. He seemed particularly heartened by signs that pressure from man
and beast on the local vegetation appeared to have abated somewhat.

June 7th, 2011 Bou Iblan foothills

 Next day prospects were distinctly brighter with a cheerful combination of
cloud and sunshine evenly distributed across the sky; so after breakfast we
boarded the ‘Berlingo’ and made for the hills.

Rather than head off hell-bent for the main Bou Iblan range, Ayad suggested we
attempt Ich Ramouz (2.365m), one of its NE outliers, via the Beni Sohan Forestry
Hut and Mdawd village.

The subsequent outing developed into a classic, adapting-to-the-weather
exercise. At first, all went smoothly. Reaching the Forestry Hut we kitted up
and headed through the mixed growth forest towards Mdawd. En route we admired
some wild boars frolicking behind a chicken-wire fence – apparently a game
reserve of sorts where, for a consideration, wealthy “sportsmen” could come up
from Fez and blast the living daylights out of the hapless local swine. Some
“sportsmen”…

In fine fettle we strode energetically along the track, reaching a shallow col
above Mdawd in less than half an hour. It was now 11:00. The sun was high and
bright, everything seemed fine and dandy, while the present writer was
apparently making light of the gradient. Beyond some isolated houses and gardens
with a profusion of vine, cactus and fig, Ayad led the way up a rough trod over
gradually steepening slopes to the left (ENE). Above us loomed Ich Ramouz. At
that moment as they made for the heights, a small group of Berber muleteers
overtook us, and we exchanged greetings. Ominous clouds were now gathering
above. At 11:40 the first squall hit us. Visions of wandering, soaked and
spirited, across the Ich Ramouz slopes rapidly convinced us that discretion was
the better part of valour. Back down we went while the Berber muleteers
disappeared above into the lowering cloud-base.

Rather than lamely descend to Mdawd, Ayad worked his way right till we hit the
tree-line – actually a vast pine plantation clothing entire NE slope of Ich
Ramouz. The upper portion consisted of Canary Island pine, the remainder of
Aleppo pine. This part was fun? Wrapped up to the eyes in foul-weather gear we
galloped downhill, twisting and turning through the trees. As a former forester
Ayad had completely recovered his woodland feel and expertly guided us from spur
to spur, across intervening ravines and forest paths, the ground comfortably
carpeted with pine needles. Occasionally, we would stop and gaze back uphill to
where the cloud-base had dropped even lower. “Good thing we weren’t caught back
up there in those clouds!” Yves shrewdly observed.

Half an hour later, to conclude our “raiders of the pine forest” stunt, we
emerged from a final stand of Canary Island pine onto wheat fields which we
skirted till the dirt road (tufna < Fr. ‘tout venant’) was reached. The Forestry
Hut was just beyond. Bunching together under a large pine tree to escape
on-going drizzle we settled down to a well-earned picnic.

The meal over we pushed on along the tufna track to Beni Zehna, but rain and
mist remained unrelenting. There was nothing for it but return tamely to Ayad’s
house in the Zloul for more of his lavish hospitality, dry out by the fire-place
and read a book till dinner.

June 8th, 2011 Tizi n-Tigoulmamin

Next day finally dawned fine. But after breakfast our, paths diverged: Ayad had
to go down to Fez on business; we had been planning to make for Skoura n-Ayt
Seghrouchen to check out a new lodge we’d heard about. On Ayad’s instructions we
followed the narrow, winding Zloul road towards El Aderej, turned off right
after a few miles and headed towards Oued Mddez. All plain sailing until the
road became a track and we found, ourselves bumping down towards the river.
After crossing the Mddez there was more dirt track before we found the tarmac of
the Tazouta-Skoura road. Apparently all the fuss was connected with a
dam-building project. Saw congregation of about 60 Black kites and Rough-legged
buzzards along this stretch of road, seemingly attracted by some nearby
carcasses.

Ahead of us, bathed in bright sunshine, rose the gaunt backbone of Jbel
Tichchoukt as we sped along the road with hardly enough space to pass on-coming
vehicles, of which there were mercifully few. We then drove through what has to
be one of the densest concentrations of olive-groves in Morocco, till suddenly
around noon, we were at the entrance to Skoura. Aiming to park somewhere near
the Tadout plateau that overlooks Skoura, we turned sharp left up the slope,
following the tarmac past the main square with its taxi rank. Then uphill again,
noting for further reference a very steep track and signpost indicating “Gîte
Skoura”, until a couple of km beyond Skoura we reached a turning in the road
with plenty of parking space on the right, near entrance to track leading to
Tadout Forestry Hut.

After a brief picnic we kitted up and looking beyond thinly wooded slopes to
Tichchoukt main ridge, noticed a likely-looking notch standing out proudly
against the azure sky, at the point where it declined to the E, actually Tizi
n-Tigoulmamin. This, we decided, would be our afternoon objective.

After an initially uninspiring boxwood gully, open fields lying fallow and an
occasional sheep or two in the distance, we zigzagged up gentle slopes sparsely
strewn with evergreen oak. Plenty of grass about, though, actually increasing as
we gained altitude. Above the tree-line, the slope evened off, ushering us onto
a spacious grassy bowl with several herds of sheep and goats grazing in the
vicinity.

Tizi n-Tigoulmamin derives its name from the tarns that adorn it – one of them
still filled with water on this occasion, and a sign that it had been a rainy
spring. After saluting some friendly young shepherds and their surprisingly
mild-mannered dogs, we crossed the pasture and followed an obvious trod trending
right at the S end of the pass. Half way up the slope we crossed some rocks and
emerged onto the ridge proper. We’d been walking a couple of hours or so – quite
enough for that day. Before returning we admired the stupendous view, this being
the first truly fine day in a week! Tichchoukt continued SW and up into the
blue; we could see to the N the arid Mddez plain; due E to cloud-veiled Bou
Iblan and S to El Mers, towards which snaked the ribbon of road we’d followed on
foot back in 1984, when it was still a track. The times they are indeed
a-changin’!

We retraced our steps uneventfully across the pass, past a few scrawny trees and
eventually to the car left unattended by the roadside. Nobody had touched it.
Now to see what this new Skoura lodge was like. Off we went down towards the
village. In no time we were confronted with the aforementioned signpost and an
uncompromisingly steep, stony track. Launching our plucky little ‘Berlingo’
uphill we climbed with some trepidation for about half a mile until we were just
below the edge of a cliff, down which spattered a sizeable waterfall.

We now discovered a small, red-brown, Kasbah-like building – recognizable as the
gîte from photos seen on the Internet. Despite the unprepossessing track we had
made it to home base with no apparent damage to our vehicle. Parking space,
however, is at a premium, not that this gîte could handle more than three
car-loads of guests at any one time! As it was about 5pm we decided to unload
our things, looking forward to an early dinner and quickly to bed.

June 8th, 2011 (evening), Skoura gîte

Wrong address for that kind of expectation, I’m afraid; the situation took time,
a lot of time to unwind. In fact, the whole operation was handled in a
delightfully casual, informal manner, so much so, that we felt we were dealing
with out-and-out amateurs who’d suddenly decided to go in for inn-keeping.

We had booked by ‘phone, someone whom we’ll call Mostafa handling our call.
Naturally expecting to meet the aforesaid Mostafa we climbed up to the lodge,
only to find it empty. After a few minutes a middle-aged Berber woman, Rkia by
name, appeared and informed us that Lhoussein would soon arrive. That worthy put
in an appearance another five minutes later and friendly conversation in
Tamazight ensued. Yes, of course, we could settle in; and early dinner, no meat,
just vegetables or eggs? Why, of course, no problem, ur illi ca n muckil! A
youth now appeared and he introduced him us to as: han u-tada nu, “this is my
milk-brother”; all nice, informal and friendly.

From the terrace of the lodge, dodging occasional spray from the waterfall, we
gazed uphill at steep slopes, terraced fields, hill villages and the Tichchoukt
main ridge. Lhoussein waxed eloquent: “You’re only spending one night? What a
pity! Come back next year and we’ll visit these hills together!” Shortly
afterwards he disappeared, promising that we’d have dinner well before 8 pm –
and we never saw him again – not that we ever got round to seeing the elusive
Mostafa, either!

Lhoussein had gone and left u-tada holding the baby. So we relaxed on the plush
cushions and carpets of the main guest-chamber. Well, after dark, around 8 pm,
we strolled upstairs to the kitchen and discovered that a quite unexpected
cooking staff – u-tada, his hijab-wearing fiancée and a handsome, swarthy
middle-aged lady – were preparing a totally different dinner from what we had
ordered.

Well, to cut a long story short, we eventually dined quite nicely around 9:30 pm
and then repaired to bed. The bed-room, compared with the amateurish fumbling of
the staff, was all that tired back-packers could have hoped for. Curtained
windows, wall-to-wall carpets, comfy little rug-covered beds – a real gem! A lot
of thought had obviously gone into designing this lodge, as we noticed when
visiting the bath-room. Flushing toilets, efficiently-working taps and
wash-basins, purpose-built showers with ablution stools, the sanitary
arrangements couldn’t be faulted. In fact, we sensed that the whole operation
must be master-minded by some big-city Moroccans with a bent for the wilds and
who visited occasionally with their friends and/or families. It was just a pity
the local staff were so dilatory in their approach to inn-keeping.

June 9th 2011 Return to Rabat

After an excellent night’s sleep u-tada served us a perfectly adequate
breakfast, we paid the bill (about DH 300,- per head), loaded up the car and
left by mid-morning. A picnic lunch in the Ifran cedar forest was our last taste
of the middle Atlas before we settled down to the long, hot drive back down to
Rabat, which we reached around 5 pm.

 

michael.peyron@voila.fr

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Publié dans General, Tourisme de montagne Atlas marocain | Pas de Commentaire »


HANNIBAL CROSSES THE ALPS – 3: HAUTE UBAYE

Posté par Michael Peyron le 19 septembre 2011

Haute Ubaye  September 2-5, 2011

   Résumé – Cet article en langue anglaise est le troisième d’une série
consacrée à nos recherches sur les traces d’Hannibal, ses éléphants et ses
cavaliers numides, ancêtres des Berbères d’aujourd’hui. Concernant le col
fatidique traversé par le général carthaginois nous refusons une acceptation
trop facile des thèses qui ont le vent en poupe; nous estimons, en effet, qu’il
est dommageable de tout ramener au Clapier, ou à La Traversette. Bien au
contraire, tout demeure possible.  Car rien n’est encore valablement prouvé sur
le plan archéologique. Raison pour laquelle, après la Traversette, le col
d’Ambin, le Mont-Cenis, le Clapier (2004-2009), ainsi que de mémorables
pérégrinations à flanc des gorges du Guil, en haut des cols d’Agnel, de Lacroix
et de Malaure l’an passé,  en 2011 nous avons dirigé nos pas au-delà du Col de
Vars, vers des recoins encore plus reculés des Alpes du Sud. Quête qui a
finalement connu son terme à « Barcelo », au pied de la montée du Col de
Restefond. Ceci après avoir écumé quelques sites de l’Ubaye : le col de Larche,
le col de Mary, le col Girardin. Pour chacun de ces hauts-lieux nous avons
dressé un bilan provisoire de viabilité. Nous ajoutons, enfin, quelques
considérations pertinentes sur l’actualité « hannibalienne », les neiges
persistantes et le recul des glaciers ; une recension sommaire d’ouvrages divers
sur Hannibal. 



 







   Col de l’Autaret (cleft on L) and Col de Mary (R of centre) from Col
Girardin, Sep 5, 2011 (photo: M. Morgenthaler)



Contents 

1. Overall picture 

2. Criteria for evaluating “Hannibalic” cols 

3. Col de Larche, or de Largentière (Maddalena)

4. Col de Mary (Maurin) 

5. Col de l’Autaret 

Appendix 1 Relevance of glacial retreat and/or snow-melt  

Appendix 2 Bibliography

Appendix 3 Where to stay 

1. Overall picture 

2011 was obviously going to be a busy year in terms of Hannibalic celebrations.
The build-up had been noticeable through recent screen versions of the
Carthaginian epic, most of which had been also shown on TV for good measure.
Also, most significantly, there had been a Franco-Italian exhibition inaugurated
in April 2011. Staged at the Musée Dauphinois in Grenoble, it was devoted to the
Punic general, his army, their crossing of the Alps and the manner in which the
Hannibal legend subsequently underwent construction and de-construction (see
below for more). 

  

     Brochure publicising successful Hannibal et les Alpes expo, Apr 2011
(photo: Musée Dauphinois, Isère)

More prosaically, despite the economic down-turn, Alpine regions dependent on
tourism had to get their act together to guarantee a successful season.
Capitalizing on old legends is a well-known standby in such circumstances and
nowhere was this more apparent than in Haute Maurienne. By early July a
life-size aluminium elephant had been erected outside Bramans to attract
passers-by, thus staking the village’s claim to fame in no uncertain terms as a
genuine “Hannibalic” venue. 



 

 Bramans and its summer 2011 quiz centering on Hannibal’s elephants (photo:
Communes of Bramans & Susa)

Nor was the fun factor neglected. Open to visitors young and old, a
Hannibal-oriented quiz  was organised between July 15 and September 20, after
which date winners would be announced and prizes distributed. It prominently
featured elephants and the Col du Clapier route, by the same token visibly
strengthening the case for the last-named pass. Not much scholarship involved
here; but showmanship, did you say? Ah, yes! 

True, the Bramans Commune have been pushing hard for some time to get their pet
pass acknowledged as the genuine article. A look at their website, however,
http://www.bramanshautemaurienne.com/hannibal.html, will reassure the reader
that they are being quite open about and businesslike about the matter. They
fully appreciate that Hannibal’s harangue of the troops with Italy in view, far
from being a failsafe identification criterion, may merely be “une aimable image
d’Épinal”, thus leaving cols other than the Clapier with a sporting chance of
collecting “Hannibalic” honours. 

       

    Hannibal’s elephants and Clapier as summer 2011 crowd-puller (photo:
communes of Bramans & Susa) 

In fact, among the direct links provided to relevant websites is that of Pierre
Ollier, a well-known exponent of the Col de Larche. (cf.
http://ollier.pierre.free.fr/HANNIBAL.htm) Another link is to Patrick Hunt, an
eclectic scholar and frequent speaker at bow-tie and dinner-jacket evenings in
the ‘Frisco Bay area. Concerning Hannibal, he is better known as a successful
student trip leader and Archaeological Project director at Stanford University,
with 25 or more Alpine passes under his belt. A firm believer in the Clapier
route, by all accounts he was preparing to take the field yet again during the
summer of 2011. 



2. Criteria for evaluating “Hannibalic” cols 



As with fashion, so with Hannibal’s pass.  In 2010 we had been informed by a
girl in the Tourism Office at Aime (Tarentaise) that Hannibal, in all
probability, never crossed over to Italy by way of the Petit St Bernard. This
remark would probably have infuriated the likes of Aimé Bocquet, who would have
reminded the disloyal girl (disloyal to her own region, that is!) that for
centuries numerous observers had been in favour of the Tarentaise route.
Similarly, during our 2010 visit to Queyras we had noticed that interest in
Hannibal was at best lukewarm, although people in tourism acknowledged visits by
John Prevas and Hannibal-seekers from America. Again, this year, up-valley from
Barcelonnette in a Jausiers restaurant, when questioned about Hannibal, the
proprietor admitted that locals used to believe the Punic general had passed
through their area, but that such ideas had since fallen out of
fashion. Instead, they make capital out of their links to Mexico, where many
former sons of « Barcelo » emigrated in the early XIXth century, and their town
centre now boasts numerous curiousity shops selling Maya memorabilia, not to
mention tapas bars to publicize this aspect of things (cf. illustration at end
of article).



Fashion-wise, while authorities such as Saint-Simon had argued in favour of
Hannibal travelling via the Grimone pass (1318m), past Mens, through the
Champsaur, over the Col Bayard, then up the Ubaye and eventually over Col de
Mary, 200 years later this kind of theory had gone out of the window. Ditto
regarding the Col de Larche. Amusingly though, in a 1960 monograph promoting the
Lamure area (Isère), L. Caillet, takes heart from what he interprets as Jumbo’s
semi-failure at the Clapier the previous year, concluding that “on en revient
aux anciennes hypothèses”, hinting that this somehow rehabilitates the Ubaye
route which passes by is front door! Very much a case of what the French call
esprit de clocher, or inter communal rivalry.

  

     Tête de Miéjour (L) and general view of Chambeyron Aiguilles from Col
Girardin,  Sep. 5, 2011 (photo: M. Peyron)



It was specifically to look into these “anciennes hypothèses” that Eric Hatt,
Michel Morgenthaler and the present writer were directing their footsteps to
this remote Alpine backwater. Having examined three Queyras cols the year
before, as described on
http://michaelpeyron.unblog.fr/2010/10/13/tracking-hannibal-over-queyras-passes,
for the 2011 instalment of our investigation into Hannibal’s saga we had decided
to focuss on the adjoining Ubaye region between Guillestre and Barcelonnette. As
usual, after perusal of the primary sources, our approach would remain that of a
field team inspecting the viability of each potentially “Hanibalic” pass, taking
into account the following factors and the extent to which they matched
historical data:-

2.1  Accessibility > low-valley approach; 

2.2  medium-altitude considerations > climb towards col; 

2.3 availability of resources (water, firewood, grazing, etc.) on final approach
to col; 

2.4 environmental criteria applicable to actual col (altitude, terrain, wind and
cloud factor, snow-cover, visibility, etc.); 

2.5 feasibility of descent from col towards Italy (potential terrain hazards,
strategic considerations, etc.). 

Ultimately, our aim was to produce a tabulated summary of our findings going
back to our  initial 1977 Col de Mary crossing, itemizing the above factors of
each pass earmarked for scrutiny, and, in terms of whether it would “go”,
awarding grades ranging from “go-go” and  “go”, to “doubtful” or definitely
“no-go”. Though this perfectly harmless exercise would not, per se, solve the
riddle of the “col perdu d’Hannibal” (Morabito, 2003), we felt it should provide
the reader with useful elements of comparison. 

3. Col de Larche, or de Largentière (Maddalena) 





 

  St Madeleine chapel, Col de Larche, Sep 2, 2011 (photo: M. Peyron)



One of the southernmost and usually snow-free cols of the Alps, the relatively
low altitude (1991m) and easy accessibility of the Colle della Maddalena, all
the way up the Ubaye and Ubayette valleys, speak in its favour as a possible
route for Hannibal. And yet it has fallen out of grace in recent years, not
being deemed high enough to match references to residual snow in accounts by
Polybius and Livy; also for military reasons. According to arm-chair
strategists, it would have taken Hannibal too far south, along a route
debouching onto Cuneo (Coni), hence leaving his right flank vulnerable to Roman
attack. Conversely, one can argue that it was precisely the kind of gamble that
one would have expected the daring 29-year-old general to take. 

 

  Present-day frontier crossing, Col de Larche,  Sep. 2, 2011 (photo: M. Peyron)



Be that as that it may, the present writer and his party were greatly impressed
by this pass. Nowhere before on our quest had we seen such user-friendly
mountain terrain: a gently-sloping, well-watered and -wooded, open valley
calculated to have provided Hannibal and his elephants with the smoothest ride
possible. Not to mention fine meadows and springs at the col itself, a nearby
lake, with larch trees (mélèzes) growing in the vicinity – ideal for a
bivouacking army. Even the initial descent beyond the lake to Argentera village
on the Italian side, rightly described as mildly difficult by P. Ollier, would
not have proved too tough a nut to crack for Hannibal’s engineers. 

  





   Zig-zag turns on descent to Argentera village from Col de Larche, Sep. 2 2011
(photo: M. Peyron) 

Our conclusion: col definitely qualifies as a “go-go”. 

4. Col de Mary (Maurin) 

    

   La Espena (L); col de Mary  (R) backed by lombarde clouds, Sep. 3, 2011
(photo: M. Peyron) 



An unfashionable route according to XXIst-century reckoning. However, our
revived interest in this particular pass was kindled by an account entitled “De
Grimone à Mary”, penned by a scholar living in the Hautes Alpes  called M. G. de
Manteyer. His 1945 thesis, based on a text by Varro claiming that Hannibal’s
pass lay between Monte Viso and the Col de Larche, contended that Col de Mary
(or its close neighbour, Col de Roure) was the only feasible candidate. Barely
twenty years later this theory had lost credit with the pundits; Guillaume
(1967) for one, dismisses it out of hand. This route, he argues, descends into
the unsuitably deep and narrow Maira valley, eventually reaching the Cuneo area,
too far south of Taurini territory.   



    

  Grazing sheep on path to Col de Mary, lombarde clouds in background,  Sep.
3, 2011 (photo: M. Peyron)

Our investigations did not tally with this view. It took us just over 3 hours to
reach the Col de Mary (2630m) from the French Alpine Club (CAF) Maljasset hut. A
friendly trail way-marked in red and yellow first took us up through magnificent
larch forest; then over some easily negotiable rock steps to gain comfortably
sloping meadows; in September, sheep grazing here with anti-wolf dogs – large
white patous – in attendance.

   

    Notice-board with instructions on how to proceed with  patou sheepdogs,
below Col de Mary, Sep. 3, 2011(photo: M. Peyron)

Beyond, grassy slopes head onwards to the pass; just before it a large bowl
could easily house an army. Interestingly, the path on this final section had
been reinforced with stone slabs in Mussolini’s time. Pass proper found to be
stony and fairly narrow, with two discordant signposts: one labelled “Col de
Mary” (2637m), the other “Colle del Maurin”(2639m). On the Italian side, we
enjoyed views far down Mara valley towards mysterious, cloud-wrapped peaks. 

   

   View down Italian slope from Col de Mary, Sep. 3, 2011 (photo: M. Peyron)



A few hundreds down the Italian slope a vantage-point revealed a succession of
bumps and hollows subsiding smoothly towards a point where valley narrows. Both
Eric Hatt and present writer recognized terrain they had come over in previous
ears. 





 

  Skirting Lac de Marinet, afternoon, Sep. 3, 2011 (photo: M. Morgenthaler)

Weather-wise, it had been a cloudy day till 09:30, when things had brightened up
considerably on the French side. Over and around the Mary, however, typical
lombarde conditions had reigned. Luckily for us, though, the rain held off till
14:00, when, after a brief detour via Lac de Marinet, it caught us half way back
to Maljasset and we took a healthy soaking. 

 

   Col de Mary Italian signpost, Sep. 3, 2011 (photo: M. Peyron)



The col itself could be pronounced as a “go”. The only qualification being that,
on their way up the Ubaye valley, Hannibal’s engineers might have had their work
cut out bypassing a forested gorge some way downstream between La Condamine and
St Paul.  Regretfully then, it looks as though the Mary must be rated
as “doubtful”. 

5. Col de l’Autaret 

One of those austere high-places, much frequented in the XIXth century by
Italian colporteurs (‘pedlars’) from Belino seeking fame and fortune in France,
the Col de l’Autaret constitutes a point of vantage, with far-flung views
towards Queyras on the one hand, towards the Bellino area on the other.  Sadly,
due to a combination of bad weather and miscalculation, we never actually made
it to the top of this one, which means there’ll have to be a return match. We
did, however reconnoitre its approaches in the rain. 

 

   Bottom of climb to Col de L’Autaret, Grand Bois (R), seen from Plan Parouart,
Sep. 4, 2011 (photo: M. Peyron)



The route involves crossing the Ubaye a few hundreds upstream from Maljasset,
taking the Col de Mary trail for a while, then heeding a signpost marked “Col de
l’Autaret” that follows the Ubaye left-bank path through the Grand Bois. (On
September 5, 2011, this stretch of larch forest was alive with the ringing of
bells from grazing cattle). After an hour and a half or so, a valley junction is
reached at Plan de Parouart, where the Ubaye broadens into a 300m-wide
gravel-bed stunted with trees and bushes. One needs to do a right from here and
follow on up the path, past some shepherds’ huts, skirting the Torrent de
Chabrière for some three hours (according to the Maljasset Hut custodian), till
the pass is reached. At 2874m it ranks as second-highest to Traversette among
potential Hannibal cols. 

 

   Serrière de la Testeta ridge (R) from below Col Girardin, Sep. 5, 2011
(photo: M. Peyron)



On the last morning of our stay (September 5) we did an up-and-down in 4 hours
15 minutes from Maljasset to the Col Girardin on the GR 5, and back again. This
enabled us to take some challenging pictures of the Aiguilles de Chambeyron, the
Col de Mary and a cleft on the far left skyline marking Col de l’Autaret. 





Appendix 1 Relevance of glacial retreat and/or snow-melt   
 

 

 Approach to Col de Marinet, Chambeyron Aiguilles in background, Sep. 3, 2011
(photo: M. Peyron)

Hannibal experts usually list the presence (or absence) of late snow in the
vicinity as a criterion when it comes to deciding which one is the bone fide
col. In fact several venues, like the Col de Larche, have been put out of the
running for that very reason. As mentioned in a previous article
(cf.http://michaelpeyron.unblog.fr/2010/09/02/an-unsolved-riddle-as-old-as-the-hills),
snow-melt and glacial retreat are constantly shifting variables, rendering a
posteriori reconstruction of conditions in 218 BC extremely arduous. While
tentative comparisons have been made between possibly milder weather conditions
obtaining during the so-called “Roman climatic optimum” and today’s glacial
retreat, apparently attributable to global warming, it is difficult to draw hard
and fast conclusions there-from. The more so as finer points of climatic
oscillation need to be taken into account and accurately evaluated (P. Leveau &
L. Mercalli, 2011). 

 

 Patches of névé snow and rockglaciers; vestiges of Marinet glacier,  Sep. 3,
2011 (photo: M. Peyron)

This being so, the reader will forgive a brief digression. While returning from
the Mary on September 4, 2011, we made a detour via Col de Marinet (2785m) and
Lac du Marinet (2535m). This gave us a grandstand view of the northern side of
the Aiguilles de Chambeyron (3410m) together with what used to be the Marinet
glacier. When last seen by this writer in 1977, the Marinet still extended some
way down into the corrie above the lake, as on accompanying map.

  

  Aiguilles de Chambeyron, Col de Mary & Col de l’Autaret (based on DR map,
1975)

Eight years on from the 2003 heat-wave, the glacier has been reduced to five or
six separate patches of névé snow, huddling like orphans at the foot of
individual buttresses and couloirs. As for the NW-facing Glacier de Chauvet,
we noticed on September 5 that it was now limited to a small hanging glacier
west of the main Aiguille, overlooking an extensive rock glacier. A sorry sight
indeed! 

  

   Aiguilles de Chambeyron with hanging glacier (Chauvet) on R, Sep. 5,
2011 (photo: M. Peyron)

At the end of the day, we’re talking in terms of recent change readily
observable over a 30-year period. The point being that one has to be very, very
careful when attempting to “guestimate” snow and ice conditions at a specific
point in past history. 





Appendix 2   Bibliography   

(Not limited to the Ubaye region; brief commentary given on each item)



A. Bocquet, Hannibal chez les Allobroges : La grande traversée des Alpes,
Montmélian: La Fontaine de Siloé, 2009.



A  beautifully edited,  scholarly and well-documented account by a classical
archaeologist. Hannibal’s itinerary is subjected to rigorous analysis as per
Peutinger’s table, while  supporters of the Clapier route are invited to abandon
a fashionable theory that no longer holds water (p.80). A book to keep and
re-read. 

L. Caillet, La Mure d’Isère et ses environs – Corps – Mens – Valbonnais, Gap:
Impr. Louis-Jean: 1960.

This is a workmanlike monograph on the La Mure area that includes a snippet of
info on Hannibal’s supposed Haute Ubaye route (p. 129). 

P. Cassagne, R. Blanchard, M. Igout & M. Vyon, Lacs et Glaciers de Marinet,
Association Haute Ubaye, 1975 (env.).

An unassuming map-guide written by local mountaineers containing a wealth of
info on the Aiguilles de Chambeyron and Col de Mary area. 

A. Courtenay, “South of France: In search of Hannibal the Elephant Man”, ©
Copyright of Telegraph Media Group Ltd. 2011, available on
http://www.telegraph.co.uk/travel/destinations/europe/france/riviera 

An engagingly written re-run of Bernard Levin’s route, and possibly one of the
best Hannibal articles ever in English. 

G. De Galbert, Hannibal et Cesar dans les Alpes, Grenoble : Ed. Belledonne,
2009. 

A painstaking, well-written reconstruction of the Maurienne-Clapier route based
on perusal of primary sources and field-work. Unsurprisingly, as the author
shares the latter’s views on the Clapier, Patrick Hunt has volunteered a
preface. This volume deserves a place in your bookcase as a properly documented
and illustrated work of reference. 



A.Guillaume (Général), Annibal franchit les Alpes, 218 av. J.-C., Grenoble: Ed.
des Cahiers de l’Alpe, 1967.

Few were better qualified than General Guillaume, himself of Guillestre, to
produce this exhaustive survey of “Hannibalic” passes from Savoy to Hautes
Alpes. After extensive research and field-work, finally narrows down
possibilities to Clapier and Traversette, though refrains from taking sides. 

J.-P. Jospin & L. Dalaine (eds.), Hannibal et les Alpes une traverse, un mythe,
Grenoble: Musée Dauphinois, 2011.

A collective, Franco-Italian effort that deals with Hannibal’s crossing of the
Alps from several angles: historical (Gallic and Carthaginian), military
(includes an insightful piece on soldiers’ weapons and equipment), mythological,
environmental and archaeological. Although pointing to Clapier as a strong
probability, does not neglect other theories. Superbly illustrated; a book to
keep. 

P. Leveau & L. Mercalli, « Hannibal et les Alpes : l’identification du col
franchi et son contexte environnemental », in Hannibal et les Alpes : une
traversée, un mythe, J.-P. Jospin & L. Dalaine (éds.), Grenoble, Musée
dauphinois, 2011 (pp. 95-106).



Part of the previous festchrift, it analyzes the environmental background to
Hannibal’s traverse, including the vexed question of snow-cover, and includes a
useful chart on average temperatures in the Alps over the past 11000 years. 

G., Manteyer, de, « Le franchissement des Alpes par Annibal, de Grimone à
Mary », Bulletin de la Société d’Etudes des Hautes-Alpes, 1945.

A one-off effort to solve the problem of Hannibal’s pass by a then prominent
Egyptologist. The theory is a challenging one, though according to Guillaume, de
Manteyer apparently never made it up to the Col de Mary on foot; Guillaume did –
which makes all the difference! 

J.S. Morabito, Mais où est donc passé le fils d’Hamilcar ? ou sur la piste du
col perdu d’Hannibal, Paris: Ed. La Bruyère, 2003.



This stimulating, scholarly account relies on a totally new time-and-motion
analysis of Hannibal’s itinerary, dismissing earlier miscalculations, and
ultimately sending him over the Col d’Agnel. Doubtful, however, as to whether
author actually did field-work; photographs at end of volume look decidedly
second-hand. 

Tite-Live, Hannibal, (M. Grimaud, trad.& G. Walter, éd.), Club du Livre
d’Histoire (1970, env.).



A classic biography of Hannibal that contains extracts from Livy fluently
translated and expertly commented upon. Black and white photographs, maps; the
editors appear to favour the Montgenèvre route. 

Appendix 3    Where to stay ?

 











   

      Real estate agent unrealistically advertising « Pissevin » orchard and
genuine « Mexican » villas,  Barcelonnette, Sep. 4, 2011 (photo: M. Peyron)





    

     Ideal Hannibal base camp: Lavis-Trafford guest-house at Le Planay, at foot
of Clapier route (Hte. Maurienne), Aug. 2009 (photo: M. Peyron)

  

michael.peyron@voila.fr





Publié dans Hannibal crosses the Alps | Pas de Commentaire »


RECENT CASES OF INCOMPLETE ACADEMIC RESEARCH ON MOROCCO’S BERBERS

Posté par Michael Peyron le 19 juillet 2011

 

Recent cases of incomplete academic research on Morocco’s Berbers 

 

                                               Michael Peyron* 

 

______________________________________________________________________________________ 

After being sidelined by the Nationalists for political reasons in the
Protectorate aftermath, Berber studies in Morocco have moved back to
centre-stage in recent years. While Moroccan scholars are far from inactive, a
considerable portion of the research on the country’s Imazighen (Berbers) is now
conducted by foreign academics, not all of whom, however, appear to have
benefited to the full from the advantages of fieldwork, or access to existing,
relevant sources in Morocco. Although language difficulties involved in
switching from English to French, or vice-versa, may admittedly be held partly
responsible for this self-inflicted handicap, they constitute a poor excuse.
While pointing out such shortcomings as when they occur, the present paper
appeals to the better nature of the researchers in question so that, in future,
they will leave no stone unturned in their attempts to access available material
in whichever language, without neglecting all-important fieldwork. 

________________________________________________________________________ 

 

Keywords: absentee academics – relevant sources – field-work – language barrier
– inaccuracy – handicap. 

 

 

 

Introduction 

 

 

 

During the Protectorate period, once Morocco’s Berbers had been broken in by
military force, they were regarded as a major segment of the population with
whom the colonisers could feel common ground, and who could be relied upon if it
came to the crunch because of their supposedly lukewarm Islam, compared to the
so-called “Arab” element. This divisive attitude, fostering as it did a
perceived Arabo-Berber dichotomy, was destined to poison the atmosphere of
politics and academia in Morocco for decades to come. Thus, for twenty years
after Moroccan independence, Berber culture and language would be diligently
swept under the carpet to suit the requirements of nation-building and a single
language policy in a country that sought inspiration both in the Arabo-Islamic
Middle East and in France’s Jacobin philosophy. Memories of the unfortunate 1930
dahir, with its seemingly pro-Berber French bias, unfavourably influenced the
country’s Nationalists, who felt uncomfortable about Berbers, bearing in mind
their past record as trouble-makers. Not entirely without reason as, from 1956
to 1971, while some Imazighen had proved loyal to the throne, others
participated in abortive, anti-makhzan risings. 

 

 

 

Hence the early emphasis among Moroccan post-colonial writers (Lahbabi 1958,
Laroui 1977, etc.), not to mention French exponents of the self-denigration cult
such as Jacques Berque (1962),1 who criticized what one researcher (Burke 1973)
called the “Colonial Vulgate”. 

 

 

 

French Protectorate scholarship was taken to task for its interpretation of
Moroccan history, its Cartesian obsession with Morocco as a static society, the
Arab-Berber dichotomy and the blad al-makhzan versus blad as-siba divide that
underscored the weakness of the sultan’s hold on the country. 

 

Conversely, the revisionists’ efforts to demonstrate that pre-Colonial Morocco
had been a going concern, hale and sound in every way, contributed to
invalidating French research, some of which, however, had not been without
merit, even though conducted under the aegis of empire. A bevy of foreign
scholars (E. Burke III, J. Duclos, D. Eickelman, O. Marais, L. Rosen, D. Seddon,
A. Vinogradov, etc.) had jumped onto this particular band-wagon,2  in the
process unwittingly devising a “post-Protectorate Vulgate”, inspired partly by
the segmentary theory, partly by person-based relationships,3 a joint package
that was eventually to be proved to some extent as inaccurate as the one that
had gone before! 

 

Indeed, the controversial Gellner and Micaud (1973) festschrift, comprising
contributions by many of the above authors, muddied the waters to such an extent
that the Berbers were reduced to the rank of Arabs manqués, or semi non-persons,
without a specific culture or language of their own, who had somehow survived as
good Moslems and patriotic Moroccans4. This constituted a grave misjudgement. By
the close of the century many contributors to the offending volume had to eat
their own words, as events in Algeria and Morocco sparked a vigorous Amazigh
renaissance which, while in no way belittling religion or patriotism,
established a right among Berbers to have their cultural and linguistic
specificity accepted as an integral part of Maghribian identity. This was a
sweeping sea-change such as the revisionist school had totally failed to
predict, and which is still on-going. 

 

After the Arabs and Berbers volume had practically written off the Imazighen as
a specific social-cultural and linguistic entity, a form of ethnic ostracism
vis-à-vis Berber studies perverted academia. Over the next twenty-five years
several researchers further contributed to downplaying the Amazigh element
(Pascon, 1986, Zartman, 1987, Bourquia & Miller, 1999, Rivet 1999, etc.). It
took the efforts of native-born Berber researchers, not to mention King Mohamed
VI in person,5 together with a handful of European and North American scholars
finally to reinstate academic interest in Morocco’s “invisible Imazighen”
(Crawford 2002).6 

 

 

Since then the Amazigh renaissance in Morocco has gained momentum, while a spate
of learned Berber-related writings has materialised, some of it in the Journal
of North African Studies (henceforth JNAS), some in various doctoral projects,
in which, for obscure reasons no doubt related to the exaggerated
compartmentalization of academic studies, pride of place is granted to the
archive- and library-based efforts of scholars stationed thousands of miles from
the area under discussion, while the homeland (i.e. Morocco) contribution, as it
stands, is apparently belittled, at times ignored. This speaks volumes as to
these students’ inability to conduct exhaustive library research or trawl the
web, where they would undoubtedly have located key material that is
conspicuously absent from their writings. Surely, nothing can excuse such
academic insularity. 

 

The present writer’s purpose is to acquaint the Morocco first-timer, as much as
the old Morocco hand, with the amount of untapped research on the country’s
Imazighen which is waiting out there. Without being unduly unkind, some of the
material contained in the work of today’s scholars of things Berber, including
judgment passed and conclusions drawn, while narrowly failing to qualify as
erroneous, may be described as hasty and one-sided. It would appear that the
researchers in question, in their exaggeratedly bookish approach, do not have
the least inkling of certain Morocco-based writings, which raises serious
questions concerning their research methods, their attitude to fieldwork. The
impression gained is that of absentee scholarship, coupled with (in the case of
some American scholars) an apparent reluctance or inability to consider sources
in French, their patchy knowledge of the country at times conveying an
incomplete picture, lacking as it does the freshness conferred by field-work. 

 

Absentee scholars in Western countries wishing to conduct thesis research on
Morocco admittedly labour under another serious handicap, even if physically in
a position to do fieldwork on the spot. With their project dependent on some
form of financial grant, caught as they are between the temptation to assert
their own personalities by keeping a mind of their own, and attempts to curry
favour with a supervisor breathing down their neck, aspiring doctoral candidates
operate within a framework full of constraints. One of the prime requirements
before departure for Morocco is to define the problematic of the research, an
exercise in theory habitually based on their supervisor’s pet fantasy.7 As a
result, once in the field, the researcher finds him/herself unwittingly
attempting to twist the facts in such a way as to suit the pre-conceived
patterns to which he/she has been exposed back home, thus resulting in slightly
flawed results. 

 

Berque-inspired anthropological material in French 

 

The present survey will commence with some French research of the late 1990s so
conducted by two of Jacques Berque’s disciples as to appear unashamedly to ape
their mentor’s well-known theories on Atlas mountain societies. Berque
visualized Morocco from south to north as a socio-religious continuum with Islam
providing the cement, as it were, thereby strongly disagreeing with
Protectorate-inspired notions of a country split by a mountain versus plains
divide and uncompromising Arab-Berber dichotomy. He thus judged French appraisal
of tribalism, as well as rural Islam, as completely faulty, denying as he did
the least specificity to Berber tribes. Today his views sound somewhat dated, as
they do not take into consideration the country’s socio-cultural diversity, the
crystallization of Amazigh identity and its by-product: the Berber revival. All
of these Berque totally failed to anticipate. 

 

To their credit it must be pointed out that social anthropologists
Garrigues-Creswell and Lecestre-Rollier both conducted field-work, the former
among the Ayt Mizane of the Western High Atlas, the latter in the Central High
Atlas. Lecestre-Rollier, however,  developed her theory on a contract-based High
Atlas Berber society, a kind of be-all and end-all which she claims to have seen
at work in Ayt Bouguemmez, suggesting that this could serve as a blue-print
applicable to the whole range. This is based on a faulty premise: that the
identity of these groups “does not rest on the sharing of a similar cultural and
linguistic tradition, nor does it have its roots in a common past”
(Lecestre-Rollier, 1997, p. 19), whereas such considerations precisely sum up
the heritage of the Tamazight-speaking tribes of the Middle Atlas and Eastern
High Atlas. Specifically, in addition to notions of a common ancestry and
culture, these communities are governed by custom-related logic, by principles
of intra-group solidarity – Ibn Khaldoun’s famous ‘asabiyya – whether in cases
of tit-for-tat feuding between clans (in the old days), or trade-offs in the way
clansmen help each other in turn during harvest time. 

 

Likewise, says she, Atlas valleys have invariably been peopled by migration from
the South (Lecestre-Rollier 1997, p. 22). While certainly valid for the Seksawa
and Bouguemmez  regions, this theory does not appear to hold water in the
Tamazight-speaking portion of the High Atlas, where two main factors have
affected population movements: 1) a long-drawn out SE-NW push by pre-Saharan
pastoral tribes towards fertile grazing-grounds in the Atlas and beyond (Hart,
1993); 2) movements by saints, sometimes called marabout; either individuals
like Sidi Ahansali or al-‘Ayyachi, who trended SW-NE from the Sous; or whole
communities such as the igurramn of Sidi Yahya ou Youssef and Lmerri (Ayt Yahya)
who claim to have followed a N-S axis from the Zerhoun area near Meknes down to
Tounfit. 

 

Two other of Lecestre-Rollier’s blanket definitions fail to stand up under
scrutiny: 1) “Genealogical memory is short. (…) Who cares about the past? 
Proverbs underwrite this”. Not so. The proverb is still much venerated in the
Middle Atlas region and the ancestors’ store of knowledge is considered with
humility: “In their great wisdom, our forefathers had an answer to all. There is
nothing for us to add!” (Roux, 1942). 2) “Legends about eponymous ancestors are
rare” claims Lecestre-Rollier (1997, p. 23). Again, this does not apply to the
Tamazight-speaking area, where each segment, from tribe to clan level bears the
name of a different ancestor, and few in the group ignore his story!8 

 

Further inaccuracies appear concerning access rights to pasture and woodland.
Lecestre-Rollier (1997, p. 28), at times entertaining idealistic views at
variance with what is currently happening on the ground, appears to believe that
time-approved Amazigh rules and regulations in this domain still hold good,
whereas it is a well-known fact that, given recurring drought over the past
10-15 years such resources are accessed willy-nilly by pastoral communities
making a virtue of necessity (Peyon, 2007). 

 

 

Nor is it quite true to affirm, in connection with the way communities group,
disperse and re-group elsewhere that “all traces of their passage disappears”
(Lecestre-Rollier 1997, p. 37), views of this kind having already been aired by
other revisionist researchers such as Laroui (1977, p.174). There are in fact
countless place-names throughout the Eastern High Atlas that refer to previous
tenure by some specific group.9 

 

 

Suffice it to say that Lecestre-Rollier (1997, pp. 40-41), freely admits that
she is merely prolonging the analyses of Jacques Berque who, very much at odds
with Protectorate-period philosophy, was pushing hard for a notional, complex
Arab-Berber Moroccan society based on the logics of accumulated agreement and
contract, especially when he claims that “the continuity between the Seksawa
region and Fez was total”; whereas it was more a case of discontinuity, with the
Middle Atlas (Fazaz) region providing a major obstacle. In addition to
accumulating factual inaccuracies attributable to insufficient knowledge of the
terrain, history and local societies, Lecestre-Rollier proceeds to paint herself
into a corner by subscribing to the views of her mentor, whereas it is well
known that Fez and the Seksawa have little in common.10 

 

Lecestre-Rollier teams up with her partner Garrigues-Creswell for a further
article (2002) on the strategies adopted by High Atlas communities vis-à-vis
random events of environmental and/or socio-political nature that affect their
existence. The authors show how pastoral patterns respond to a vertical
mountains/plains complementary rationale, a well-documented factor that occurs
in the Ayt Yahya and Ayt Merghad regions, the latter migrating in winter into
the pre-Sahara to avoid losing livestock in the snow – so far so good. 

 

 

Their purpose becomes less clear when, in an article supposedly dealing with the
existing situation, they launch into a description of three now defunct
institutions, designed in the old days to face up to emergencies: 1) the
leff-based alliance system of the Western High Atlas; 2) taḍa-type pacts in the
Central High Atlas, based on exchange of mothers’ milk and/or men’s slippers of
two clans; 3) the notion of εar, that is claiming protection from somebody by
appealing to that person’s honour, somewhat similar to the Celtic practice of
placing under geiss. All of this is very interesting, but not really relevant to
current practice, the notion of u-taḍa (‘milk-brother’) having been generally
replaced by that of ameddakul (‘friend’). The Berque influence in the article
comes across strongly when the authors cast doubt on Marcy’s “Berberist”
conclusions about maternal parenthood, as reminiscent of the evolutionistic
theory of the Protectorate period (2002, p. 10).11 

 

In yet another paper, Lecestre-Rollier (2003), examines the way techno-economic
conditions of production can influence forms of social organization in Atlas
societies. In many ways, this is a more abstract re-run of her previous efforts
with certain criteria reappearing: notions of collective responsibility;
marrying off one’s daughter to a lowland tribal grouping to guarantee the
stock-breeder a safe haven in the event of heavy winter snowfall – except that
weddings do not always work out in terms of marital bliss.12 Apart from linking
man’s honour to his native turf, and disregarding the fact that in determining
his social position the possession of land is not the sole criteria, wealth on
the hoof also being important, the article lacks a proper conclusion. One can
also mention a sketchy bibliography (similar to her two previous articles).13 

 

 

Early medieval Berber history 

 

In December 2000, while working on the “Arsène Roux Archive” at the IREMAM
(Aix-en-Provence), the present writer came across a complete file (Stroomer &
Peyron, 2003, p. 79) that Arsène Roux had prepared on the probable location of
Qala’at al-Mahdi, the mysterious XIth century fortress mentioned in early
manuscripts on the Fazaz region. After visiting several sites he came to the
conclusion that Roux’s choice of the Tisigdelt plateau above Zaouit Had Ifrane
just off the Azrou-Khenifra road was the likeliest spot (Peyron, 2003), vestiges
of pre-Almoravid-period ramparts having been discovered. Meanwhile a rival team
had been in the field, Versailles-based Michel Brun and Amazigh researcher Said
Jaafar (2005), and had arrived at a different conclusion – that the site of
Lgara a few miles east of Khenifra, with extensive, well-preserved vestiges of
fortification, was the real Qala’at Al-Mahdi. Roux had considered this site, but
dismissed it as being of slightly different origin, probably late-Almoravid. An
opinion Peyron tends to go along with; furthermore it does not fit the
descriptions of the Qala’at in the old sources, regarding a wooded, well-watered
site with agricultural possibilities, traditions of an early Jewish presence,
and proximity of monkeys, all of which occur at the Tisigdelt site. Peyron’s
contention is thus based on fairly firm grounds, the more so as the Brun-Jaafar
team, not having enough time to visit the Tisigdelt site, had somewhat hastily
dismissed it out of hand as situated too deep in the hills. The entire question
of the Qala’at’s location thus remains open and will require further
research.14 

 

 

 

It is difficult, on the other hand, to fault John Iskander’s (2007)
well-researched piece on Morocco’s much maligned Barghawata heretics who held
sway over most of Tamesna on the Atlantic Plain from the IXth to the XIIth
century. Our comments will be limited to mild disagreement over Barghawata
overtures to the Umayyad caliphate of Cordoba, in what turned out to be
ultimately fruitless negotiations (2007, p. 42). Repeated injunctions by
Barghawata sovereigns not to neglect ties with Cordoba appear to reflect a
tentative Barghawata-Umeyyad axis that materialised on thriving coastal trade
between Walidia, Anfa and other Moroccan ports, and al-Andalus.15 A link that
contributed to keeping the Barghawata empire in business, economically and
strategically speaking, as already stated elsewhere (Peyron, 2005b). That
Iskander is right in claiming that the alliance fell through, may be related to
the trouble the Umayyads had with the fitna al-barbariyya of their own Berber
soldiery, who ultimately caused the destruction of the caliphate of Cordoba by
the mid-XIth century. For a time, though, a loose alliance with certain
Maghribian states (the Barghawata included and, up to a point, tolerated) made
sense for the Umayyads, so long as endured their confrontation with the rival
Fatimid caliphate (Pennell, 2003; Inane, 2003; Brousky, 2006). 

 

As Iskander charts the decline of the Barghawata, while pointing out that they
were mistakenly written off by several Arabic chroniclers before they actually
disappeared circa 1150, he omits one important episode – ‘Abd Allah ben Yassin’s
fatal 1059 expedition against them. It should not be forgotten that the
Almoravid leader was killed in battle mid-way between Rommani and Rabat, near
the Khorifla river (Abi-Zar’, 1999, p.116; Ibn Khaldoun, 1999, p. 132), where
his shrine is visible today, an indication that at the time perhaps the
Barghawata still packed a powerful punch. 

 

 

Interestingly, regarding residual Barghawata-inspired practices, three have
survived, as the present writer has observed in the field: 1) divination as to
future events and the weather by star-gazing, or studying a sheep’s
shoulder-bone (Ayt Sokhman); 2) the village cockerel sometimes referred to as
lfqih, as his pre-dawn crowing wakes up the villagers for morning prayer (Ayt
Hadiddou); 3) collecting and licking a saintly person’s baraka-containing
spittle (saints of Buj’ad, Tadla region). 

 

 

Articles on current Amazigh issues in English 

 

Samir Ben-Layashi (2007) examines secularism in the Moroccan Amazigh discourse.
A well-researched piece of work based on books and periodicals, it nonetheless
raises a number of important issues, though in places revealing insufficient
on-the-spot knowledge of the Moroccan scene. A few minor points first: Hassan
Aourid, at the time of writing, is the Moroccan kingdom’s official
historiographer. In discussing Moroccan Islamist leaders, the writer appears to
be unaware of the fact that both sheikh Yassine and PJD leader El-‘Othmani are
Berbers from the Tashilhit-speaking South-West of the country. The former,
according to one source, is apparently connected to a well-known XIXth-century
qayd of the Haha tribe, inland from Essaouira, Hajj ‘Abdellah Ou-Bihi, who ran
foul of his sultan and was subsequently forced to take poison.16 

 

Regarding the sharia and Berber customary law (izerf), the fact that the two
have been more or less embedded for some thirteen centuries, much like the
intimate interaction between Arabic and Berber, appears to make Ben-Layashi
argue that they are basically the same. This is not quite the case, though in
conversations with Moroccan qayd-s in the early 1970s17 it was stressed that
šariaɛ application in Berber-speaking areas was bound to take into
considerations some aspects of customary law, especially regarding land tenure
and grazing rights (Hart, 1997, p. 29). Work by H. Khettouch (2004 & 2005) amply
illustrates how much the passing of izerf is today regretted among Atlas Berber
societies. Based on mutual trust and confidence in traditional local law-makers,
it guaranteed a swifter, more impartial form of justice, without the present
unsatisfactory, time-wasting exposure to officialdom, involving travelling
hundreds of miles to have the case heard in court before a non-Berber-speaking
judge, with the unhelpful assistance of a graft-inspired lawyer no doubt hardly
in the know as to rural litigation! 

 

 

Another inaccuracy regards Imazighen and their attitude to learning Arabic. Much
is made of the way rural Berbers parrot items of the Koran without really
understanding their significance. This may certainly be the case. However, it
conveniently downplays the contribution to Arabic letters since early medieval
times by Berber scholars, both in al-Andalus and the Maghrib, where rural
zawiya-s such as those at Dila’, Zaouit Ahansal, Tamgrout and in the Sous,
prioritized Arabic letters among their activities. It also ignores the fact that
today a surprising number of Moroccan teachers of Arabic are Berber, whether or
not at any time they may have felt inferior because of their Berber origin!18 

 

Ben-Layashi appears to sympathize with reservations about secularism put forward
by El-‘Othmani during discussion with Amazigh militants. The PJD leader affects
an attitude of superiority in an attempt to browbeat his interlocutors: “You do
not know anything, (…) you don’t know the meaning of the term ‘secularism’ (…)
French secularism is the worst of all!” (2007, p. 161) – the archetypal dogmatic
style, based on unsupported statements.19 

 

One excellent point that Ben-Layashi (2007, p. 165) does make, however, is that
in Morocco whenever the Amazigh question arises among urban literati, the
discussion moves swiftly from the cultural to the political angle, the very term
“Berber” conjuring up visions of debauchery, dissent, heresy, resistance and
separatism vis-à-vis the maxzan and sacred, religious-based national unity. By
immediately raising the stakes (and hackles) it precludes unimpassioned debate
on the topic.20 

 

There have, of course, been precedents; to wit, the Barghawata and other early
heresies, not to mention supposed Berber collaboration with French colonial
authorities, highlighted by the notorious 1930 dahir which radicalized the
Istiqlal movement (Hart, 1997) and was to sow the seeds for a half of century of
anti-Berber feeling among Morocco’s glitterati.21 

 

The resultant stultifying mindset has contributed to blocking attempts to
translate the Koran into Tamazight,22 or allowing Berber to be accepted as a
national language on a par with Arabic (although significant progress in this
respect was made in 2011). Ben-Layashi’s arguments concerning a Berber Koran,
apparently supportive of the officially entertained suspicion vis-à-vis the
project, lack conviction, especially when he compares it with regard to the
Turkish and Persian parallels. He also appears to gloss over the fact that the
Koran has been translated into several Eastern languages (Urdu, Bahasa
Indonesian, Malay, Chinese, Pashtu, Tajik, Uzbek, Kazakh, etc.) without having
seemingly posed any perceived form of threat. 

 

Furthermore, his claim that Berber was never the language of the cult fails to
take into account the not inconsiderable influence of the Soussi ṭṭelba and
their undisputed, well-documented contribution to ttawhid and commentaries of
the Koran, thanks to men like Awzal, Aznag, Rudani and others. Not to mention
their written endeavours in fields such as grammar (Ajourroum), philosophy and
biography (Mokhtar Es-Soussi), or poetry (El-Moustaoui). 

 

 

It is also inaccurate to assert that “Berber was not a written language”
(Ben-Layashi, 2007, p. 166). There are records from ancient times of
inscriptions in Tifinagh, the indigenous Libyan script recently revived by
Amazigh militants and officially adopted by the Royal Institute of Amazigh
Culture, IRCAM. From the XIIIth to the XVIIIth centuries, the existence of
Berber alongside Arabic as a language of exchange in everyday Moroccan life was
fully taken on board, as attested by the existence of dictionaries by Al-Hilali
and Ibn Tunart (Van Den Boogert, 1998). Throughout the Moroccan Middle Ages, the
tradition of mainly religious Berber texts written in Arabic script, known as
lmazġiy, thrived principally in the Sous (Van Den Boogert, 1997). 

 

 

A final inaccuracy, proving to what extent the absentee researcher is out of
touch with the Moroccan scene, comes with his suggestion that “one is
hard-pressed to find any link between this discourse (secularism) and daily life
in the remote Berber villages in the Atlas Mountains” (Ben-Layashi, 2007, p.
168). Quite the contrary, awareness of Amazigh identity has over the past few
years spread to out-of-the-way areas such as the Tounfit, Errachidia
(Imteghren), Dadès, and Marrakech High Atlas regions23 with local feeling
running high against indifference and injustice (hogra) as to the way these
communities remain for the most part in a state of neglect and
under-development. True, apart from charity provided by a handful of NGOs,
providing satellite phone links and building of new access roads little has been
done, while the slightest whimper of discontent is at once stifled by the
maxzan.24 Despite imprisonment of some students, during demonstrations in some
of the places mentioned above, militants have not hesitated to take to the
streets, openly flaunting the blue, green, red and yellow Amazigh flag.

 

On the other hand, Elizabeth Buckner’s insightful discussion (2006) of
implementation problems surrounding the IRCAM-backed teaching of Tamazight, in
Morocco reflects a more than adequate appreciation of the political intricacies
surrounding what remains a potentially divisive decision. She admirably
summarizes the way the Ministry of Education and IRCAM appear to remain at
cross-purposes, while on the face of things both are dedicated to bringing their
policy to fruition. Despite the choice of Tifinagh script, seen by many as a
major handicap,25 together with the Ministry’s reluctance to improve teacher
training and implementation of new programmes, things are looking up: Tamazight
teaching is on the rails, with the experience moving to Higher Education at the
time of writing (March 2010); IRCAM exists, Tamazight is in the process of
re-birth (albeit a somewhat painful one), and awareness and optimism about
Amazigh culture and identity among well-informed Moroccans have never been
higher. These are arguably the major points which could have been made. 

 

Buckner cannot, however, be accused of absenteeism, having apparently conducted
field-work in the Tafraout area of SW Morocco, though the language spoken by the
locals should, by rights, have been termed Tashilhit, not Tamazight, a fact she
belatedly acknowledges (2006, p. 427). Although she confesses to receiving
confirmation from Dr. Jilali Saib, one of the then IRCAM managers, that the
Ministry were responsible for delays, she apparently never reached Al-Akahwayn
University-in-Ifrane and its well-stocked library, where she could have accessed
the Proceedings of the Amazigh Conference devoted to the adoption of Tifinagh,
edited by M. Peyron, and in which the same Saib had written a well-informed
article (2004, pp. 22-33) on the problem of Tamazight teaching.26 The more so as
AUI, situated at Ifrane in the Amazigh heartland has, in an attempt to develop
links with the surrounding country, instituted various aid programmes, pioneered
Berber studies since 1999 and organised conferences on Amazigh culture. 

 

Cynthia Becker on Amazigh art 

 

Becker is not included in this survey for her failure to do any field-work.
Quite the contrary, she carried out several trips into the Tafilalt area of SE
Morocco to study the Ayt Khebbash in the field, while the end-result (Becker
2006) is, by and large, a competent account of Amazigh culture and art in the
area. The book though, has other defects, pertaining more to lack of experience,
the researcher is at a comparatively early stage in her career, and to
non-access (for whatever reason) to French language material, together with a
failure to net sufficient relevant bibliographical sources, especially on
poetry. Her work thus lacks the hall-marks of a comprehensive survey. She
complains, for example, that little exists on the Ayt Khebbash, manages to lay
her hands on Captain Spillman’s classic and somewhat out-of-date account of the
Ayt ‘Atta (1936), but fails to mention an important, more recent paper on the
Ayt Khebbash by C. Lefébure (1996). 

 

Becker’s book reveals the extent to which Arabic has crept into Tamazight, a
good example being that of awlad laban (‘milk children’), whereas ayt taða would
have been more appropriate (2006, p. 4). Also terms like jaltita (‘full skirt’,
2006, p. 80), the same applying to aɛbroq for ‘head-scarf’, instead of the
widely documented Tamazight term akenbuš, usually worn with a complementary
garment known as tasebnit.27 

 

Her assertion, “in 1930 the French created the Dahir Berbère” (2006, p.6) is
erroneous, the Istiqlal having coined the expression themselves, whereas the
1930 dahir was a revamped version of an earlier 1914 text, promulgated by
Lyautey, concerning the application of izerf to tribes responding to Berber
customs in recently pacified areas (Hart, 1997). Nor can her suggestions of
Protectorate-period attempts to Christianize the Berbers be taken seriously, as
this would have been impossible under a secular French republic that had firmly
separated church from state back in 1904. 

 

The author’s claim that the majority of illustrations are hers is not totally
true, there being a sizeable proportion of pictures contributed by Morin-Barde,
Jean Besancenot, Addi Ouaderrou, the Minneapolis Institute of Arts, the National
Anthropological Archives and others (including the frontispiece), while many of
her own black and white shots are duplicated in colour, either because somebody
in charge of DTP botched the art work, or perhaps, in a sales-boosting move, the
publishers wanted to go for a semi-coffee-table effort. 

 

 

Poetry-wise she would appear to have read little of the available material
devoted to this speciality (Lortat-Jacob, 1980; Roux & Bounfour, 1990; Jouad,
1995; Peyron 1993a, 1993b, 1994, 2000, 2004; Roux & Peyron, 2002); nor undergone
sufficient theoretical tuition in Tamazight, though she does appear to have a
grasp of the basics of the language. As a result we have sometimes incomplete,
non-stylish translations of aḥidus-type songs, while Tamazight transcription
throughout remains amateurish and inconsistent. A remark that leads this
observer to believe that the texts were not properly vetted by a bilingual
scholar conversant with Amazigh poetry. 

 

The author thus wrongly describes the term tamawait (usually tamawayt) as a
“wordless melodic phrase” sung between one izli and the next” (2006, p.76),
whereas an izli, the basic component of aḥidus-type songs, is a couplet, or
distich, certainly not “a single phrase” (2006, p. 88). While her observation
may reflect present Ayt Khebbash practice, there is little doubt that tamawayt
would be more accurately glossed as ‘traveller’s song’ (lit. ‘what one takes on
the journey’ < verb awiy, ‘to take, to bring’). A series of timawayin is usually
sung at the beginning of an Amazigh musical evening, preparing for the izlan
that are to come after (M. Peyron, 1993, p. 40). There is, incidentally,
interesting evidence of Tashilhit influence on Ayt Khebbash dancing with
reference to “a new form of aḥidus described as hiwawi” (p. 86) (< ahwawi, or
ahwaway = ‘fickle’, ‘impetuous’). In Tamazight means “lecherous”, a description
applying to the young hero in the famous Tashilhit epic poem “Hmad u-Namir”
(Roux & Bounfour, 1990, p. 202). 

 

Nor have cases of semantic shift been remarked upon. Example:  tagwerramt,
glossed as ‘bride’ (2006, p.88), whereas it usually means ‘female saint’.
‘Bride’ is given as symbolic translation for yawudž, though usual meaning of
awudž is ‘foal’, ‘young horse’ (Taifi, 1991, p.751), a term applying in Amazigh
poetry to both genders. Likewise, igwerramn (= ‘saints’) is glossed by Becker as
‘respectability’, a plausible semantic shift, saints being generally considered
as respectable (2006, p. 89 & 195). 

 

Here are some more cases of either incomplete or literal translations, with
suggested improvements:- 

 

1) tga almu yuley uldžig ar iġir = ‘Grass and flowers have grown to her
shoulders’ > ‘Flowers from fertile green meadow reach shoulder-high’; conveys
positive connotation of term almu, a key-word in Amazigh poetry. 

 

2) ak-afeġ a ṣber ig msafaḍn ulawn = ‘Oh patience, I find you when hearts say
good-bye’ > ‘Forbearance must hearts show at leave-taking!’ 

3) Term abrid n lxir (‘path of happiness’) not translated in line 19 (p. 101);
notion of lxir understandable in context of Mecca pilgrimage. 

4) seg dadeġ s-imal iney-d iyyis yagg-en zar-i yeγr-i = ‘Next  year he will
visit and invite me’. > ‘Come next year, shall mount his steed, repair to my
side and invite me!’ 

5) Term azaġar = ‘plain’, usually North of the High Atlas (line 30); expression
yiwey wasif is a common Berberism, referring to some dogs ‘taken by river’,
implying that they were swept away by the strong current (p. 103). 

 

6) Unfortunate choice of Arabic loan-word sebbaṭ (‘shoes’, line 15); Tamazight
word idukan would have been equally acceptable on ground of metrics; would also
have guaranteed assonance vis-à-vis nearby lexical items ikebran, izbian and
lluban. 

7) ad-izwur ig-aġ ameksa = ‘God leads us and is our guardian’ > ‘May God lead us
(me) like a good shepherd’ (p. 105). 

 

8) a yelli = ‘hey, my daughter’ > ‘O daughter of mine!’ (p. 109); in most cases,
in fact, the vocative /a/ in Tamazight, need not be translated. 

 

9) Rather than ‘rulers’, igeldan should be glossed as ‘kings’ (p. 113). 

 

10) ur iḥli iwaḍu, should be transcribed ur iḥley i-waḍu to avoid hiatus and
convey full meaning (waḍu = ‘destiny’); line 49. 

11) Term taġrart = ‘bag’ is an incomplete translation; actual meaning > thick
double-blanket that once filled with grain and sewed up, serves as saddle-bag on
pack-mule; line 26 

 

12) riġ ad-d nzur mas-kwn užžy, ay isemḍal n mulay εli =  ‘I want to visit the
tomb of Mulay Ali’ > ‘Go I must to Mulay Ali’s shrine, a cure for to seek’; line
34 (2006, p. 196). 

 

 

Conclusion 

 

We thus see how academic research sometimes tends to be conducted in more or
less watertight compartments, and with excessive importance paid to theory.
Surveys by French social anthropologists of the Berque school, evenly balanced
between library research and field-work, appear nonetheless to be “moving
towards cultural interpretation”, with emphasis on finding blanket definitions
to fit the facts observed on the ground – mere “pigeon-hole classifications for
their own sake” – with their attendant fallacies (Hart, 1993a, pp. 234-235). For
the most part, French scholars still baulk at accessing English-language
sources,28 thus cutting themselves off from valuable material, their
post-revisionist American colleagues, sometimes unrealistically displaying a
similar aversion (or neglect) for documentation in French (or even Arabic), a
factor that contributes in both cases to incomplete, sometimes flawed research. 

 

Regarding most American researchers, while significant material on
Amazigh-related topics has been appearing over the past 15 years or so in
certain academic journals in Morocco and France, some of these sources have
apparently not been deemed worthy of mention.29 Surely, before embarking on
serious scientific work, is not the fact of presenting as complete a
bibliography as possible one of the prerequisites of such an undertaking?
Failure to conduct exhaustive research in libraries and on the Web, or to
perform fieldwork in the Moroccan study area, including visits to institutions
such as IRCAM and AUI, is inexcusable on the part of international scholars
purporting to pen all-encompassing papers on specialist topics such as these. 

 

Notes 

 

* Professor Peyron taught “History and Culture of the Berbers” at Al-Akhawayn
University in Ifrane, Morocco (1999-2009); from retirement in Rabat/Grenoble
continues to lecture on Amazigh-related topics. 

 

1 – As a rural administrator in the Meknes area, because of his outspoken
criticism of the colonial régime, Berque had been exiled in the early 1950s to
the Western High Atlas where he wrote what was probably his best book,
Structures sociales du Haut Atlas (1955). 

 

2 – Apart from contributions by some of these scholars to Arabs and Berbers, 
cf. E. Burke, Prelude to Protectorate (1976); J. Duclos (writing as J. Ougrour),
“Le fait berbère” (1962); D. Eickelman, Moroccan Islam (1976); J. Seddon
demolishing Montagne’s theories in The Berbers, their social & political
oganisation (1973). 

 

3 – Stepping in Evans-Pritchard’s shoes, Ernest Gellner was the leading light of
the segmentary school in Morocco during the early post-Colonial period with his
famous book Saints of the Atlas (1969) based on fieldwork among the Ihansalen
marabouts of the Central High Atlas.  His rival, Clifford Geertz, after studying
societies in mainly urban settings arrived at a different theory of a society
responding more to person-based patterns (cf. Geertz & Rosen, Meaning and order
in Moroccan society, 1979). Both schools of thought were being challenged by the
1990s, especially the segmentary one, but that is another story. 

 

4 – Speaking of patriotism it was particularly galling to Imazighen that their
heroic, thirty years’ anti-French resistance in the Atlas Mountains and
pre-Saharan regions was not included in the newfangled, Istiqlal-inspired
rewriting of Moroccan history. 

 

5 – In his fall 2001 Ajdir speech, the king announced the forthcoming opening of
the Royal Academy of Amazigh Culture (IRCAM), which was hailed by most observers
as a positive move. 

 

6 – Crawford is arguably the most influential of a new breed of American
researcher into matters Berber. Cf. also an article, “Essentially Amazigh: urban
Berbers and he global village” (Crawford & Hoffman 2000). Another article on the
history of Morccan Berbers (Saad 2000), though more archive- than
fieldwork-based, highlights the Amazigh situation in a fairly objective manner. 

 

7 –This obsession with theory can effectively stymie fieldwork or channel it
into the wrong direction. The present writer once witnessed a bevy of
Grenoble-based geographers discussing research problematics far into the night
at a hotel in Immouzzer-du-Kandar (Moroccan Middle Atlas) on the eve of a
field-trip to the Bou Iblane area (September 1998). This conversation was
continued the next day in the coach that was transporting the party up into the
foothills, to such an extent that little attention was paid to the stunning
scenery outside. They might as well have stayed put in their hotel! 

8 – For example, among the Ayt ‘Ayyach, Bou Salim al-‘Ayyachi is the famous
forbear; for the Ayt Seghrouchn, a simple baraka-possessing shepherd who
shrivelled on the spot the panther that threatened to attack his flock; among
the Ayt Hadiddou, one important segment claims descent from a common ancestor,
Midoul (Laoust, 1932 & 1934). 

 

9 – Examples abound: Tafraout n-Ayt Ouallal in the ‘Ayyachi massif; Almou n-Ayt
Ndhir in the Taaraart valley; Tizi n-ou-‘Atta (referring to a brief
XVIIIth-century foray by the Ayt ‘Atta) between Ayt Fedouli and Ayt ‘Ammar (Ayt
Yahya), etc. 

10 – A well-known proverb firmly separates Morocco’s religious capital from the
Souss region (of which the Seksawa is a notional part): “Poetry belongs to the
Sous, water to the Tassaout, science to Fez”, (amarg i sus, aman i tassawt,
lεilm i fas!”). For this reason it is unfortunate that Lecestre-Rollier should
go out on a limb to perpetuate these questionable theories. 

 

11 – Marcy was possibly the wrong candidate for Lecestre-Rollier to pick on,
having proved one of the most innovative and insightful Berber scholars the
Protectorate period ever produced (Hart, 1997). Today, IRCAM observers such as
Mohamed  Chafik and Fatima Boukhris have paid tribute to his work (Peyron,
2005a). There is also slight confusion in the article over Tamazight tribal
names: we come across Ayt Nder and Ayt M’tir as if they were separate tribes
(Lecestre-Rollier & Garigues-Creswell, 2002, p. 10), whereas this is the same
unit; referred to in Arabic as Beni Mtir, in Tamazight as Ayt Ndhir. Nor is it
fully clear whether the authors have fully appreciated that u-taða is the
singular of ayt taḍa (2002, p. 11). The term for ‘woman’ (tamġart) is
misspelled, viz. ‘Tamgart’ (2002, p. 13), while the Arabic term for ‘shame’
(ḥašuma) is used instead of the more correct Tamazight term leḥšumt (2002, p.
15), the case study being about mountain Berber, not urban, society. Nor is a
closely-related term lḥiya (‘shyness’, ‘modesty’), mentioned. Minor
shortcomings, for sure, but difficult to countenance in an article by Morocco
specialists. The bibliography is incomplete, Hart’s 1981 book on the Ayt ‘Atta
being listed, but his 1984 effort left by the wayside. 

 

12 – Case of a Tounfit (Ayt Yahya) family who, to hedge their bets, married two
of their daughters to men living in relatively faraway villages: one in Tagoudit
south of Jbel Maasker; the other finding a husband among their northerly
neighbours, the Ichqiren. In both cases, the girls were back under the parental
roof before the year was out. Cf. M. Peyron (1996). 

 

13 – Recent bibliographical sources on the history and human geography of the
High Atlas are conspicuous by their absence, including Crépeau & Tamim (1986),
Benabdellah & Fay (1986), Hart (1993 & 1996), Maurer (1996), Kraus (1997), and
several by M. Peyron (1976, 1984, 1992, 1994, 1998-1 & 1998-2, etc.). 

 

14 – Brun and Jaafar paid this writer a visit at AUI in the spring of 2007, but
neither party was able to convince the other of the authenticity of their claim
to have found the Qala’at. The visitors said they would attempt to visit Zaouit
Had Ifrane, but their plans fell through. (The present writer visited El Gara in
early June, 2011, but remains unconvinced that it is the genuine Qala’at site.)


 

15 – Discussion with Prof. Pierre Guichard (Lyon-2 University) at the “Maroc des
résistances” conference, IRCAM, Rabat, autumn 2004. 

 

 

16 – Discussion with a Moroccan historian, Dr. Mostafa al-Qadery, Al-Akhawayn
University, Ifrane, spring 2008. 

 

17 – Discussion with local authorities at Ribat al-Kheir (September 1973) and
Tounfit (January 1974). 

 

18 – Or may have been made to feel inferior. One of this writer’s
Arabic-teaching Berber friends from the Rif relates how an Arabic-speaking
colleague, tried to put him down by asking, “What business has a Rifi like you
to profess to teach Arabic!” (Discussion at Al-Akhawayn University, Ifrane,
Spring 1998) 

 

19 – Should Morocco subsequently succumb to such dogma, democracy would
undoubtedly become a casualty in little to no time, as has already happened,
Morocco’s present Istiqlal government having, in fact, banned by decree
Adgherni’s Parti Démocratique Amazigh (PDA) in April 2008. 

 

20 – Not exactly new. Similar attitudes prevailed in the XVIIth century, a fact
commented upon by C.R. Pennell (1991). 

 

21 – Quite a few of today’s Imazighen think the idea of retaining customary law
(izerf), at the heart of the 1930 dahir, was excellent. In fact researchers such
as Boudhan & Mounib (1998), Khettouch (2004 & 2005) regret its passing  What is
deplored is the manner in which the French authorities presented the problem,
not to mention subsequent Berber negationist attitudes that pervaded urban
Moroccan circles, together with the generally bad reputation that Imazighen
gained as a result of the exercise. 

 

22 –This was achieved by another of the writer’s acquaintances, a certain
Al-Johadi, a remarkable scholar of Arabic perpetuating the respectable tradition
of the Soussi ṭṭelba, and who personally presented a copy of his Koran to the
Al-Akhawayn library in April 2008. While its impact reader-wise may have been
minimal, its very existence has proved that a more broad-minded approach in
Morocco to this much vexed topic is possible. 

 

23 – There is considerable evidence of this on the Web, especially in a weekly
electronic news-letter entitled Tabrat. Furthermore, pro-Amazigh path-side
graffiti, some it highly subversive, has been appearing over the past year in
secluded nooks of the Eastern High Atlas (Asif Melloul, Tatrout gorge, etc.) as
this writer can attest personally, and of which he has documentary evidence. 

 

24 – A typical example: the way a peaceful demonstration in Imilchil (spring
2003) escalated into a riot after the makhzan had refused to listen to the
villagers’ complaints about the town’s inadequate facilities, and proceeded to
deploy the “heavies”. Similar demonstrations in August 2007 in SE Morocco
(Dadès, Imteghren, Tounfit, etc.) likewise led to maxzan repression. 

 

25 – On the other hand, this writer has been informed by IRCAM officials that
they have software enabling   conversion of a Tamazight text from Tifinagh into
Latin transcription at the press of a button. M. Brett and E. Fentress (The
Berbers, 1996, p.280) also refer to the existence of such a device. 

 

26 – In particular, Saib emphasizes the fact that, so far, it has only been
visualized by the powers that be as better preparing the pupil for acquisition
of Arabic. By consulting Amazigh Days at Al Akhawayn University (2004), Buckner
would likewise have read other well-documented papers on Berber identity, the
Tamazight teaching issue and Tifinagh, in articles by Fatima Sadiqi (2004, pp.
34-39), Moha Ennaji (2004, pp. 113-130), Mefatha Ameur and Aïcha Bouhjar (2004,
pp. 132-138). 

 

27 – This, for example, was widespread among the Ayt Yahya of Tounfit in the
1970-1980 period, though  the practice is now discontinued by many women in
favour of the simple Berber head-scarf, or, in some Ayt Sokhman villages further
west (Boutferda, Cherket, etc.), of the Islamic-inspired hižab. 

 

28 – Many French researchers have a rabidly protective and short-sighted
attitude to la défense de la langue française, a point that comes strongly home
at international conferences, to the point of ignoring papers read in English,
or actually refraining from attending the proceedings, apparently to avoid any
exposure to that language! This writer, a former regular member of the French
AFEMAM research association, can attest that at joint AFEMAM/BRISMES conferences
at Warwick, UK (1993), Aix-en-Provence (1999) and Mainz, Germany (2002), this
was a most noticeable and regrettable fact. 

 

29 – In Morocco there have been scores of IRCAM publications since 2003 not to
mention various conference proceedings on Amazigh-related matters at Al-Akhawayn
(Ifrane) AUI; also journals in Europe such as Awal, EDB (Paris) and ROMM
(Aix-en-Provence). 

 

 

References 

 

 

 

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D.M. Hart, “Faulty models of North African and Middle Eastern tribal
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Algerian saff, the Moroccan liff and the chessboard model of Robert Montagne”,
JNAS, vol. 1, n°2 (Autumn 1996: 192-205). 

 

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H. Jouad, Le calcul inconscient de l’improvisation : poésie berbère – rythme,
nombre et sens, Paris/Louvain : Peeters (1995). 

 

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AUI Press, 2004: 89-93. 

 

H. Khettouch, La mauvaise gestion de la Cité perçue par un genre littéraire: cas
de timdyazin, Doctoral dissertation, Fez : Université Dhar El Mehraz, 2005. 

 

W. Kraus, “Tribal land rights in Central Morocco: a call for comparative
research”, JSMS, n°2, 1997:16-32. 

 

V. Lagardère, Les Almoravides, Paris : L’Harmattan (1989). 

 

M. Lahbabi, Le gouvernement marocain à l’aube du XXe siècle, Rabat : Éditions
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A. Laroui, Les origines sociales et culturelles du Nationalisme marocain
(1830-1912), Paris : Maspero (1977). 

 

E. Laoust, “L’habitation chez les transhumants du Maroc central”, Hespéris, n°2,
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B. Lecestre-Rollier,  “Identité et altérité: la logique du contrat dans les
sociétés berbères du Haut Atlas marocain”,  Jacques Berque
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19-41). 

 

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efficacité sociale, avril 2003. Available on:-
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Accessed October 10, 2008.

 

C. Lefébure, “Ayt Khebbach, impasse sud-est”, Désert & montagne au Maghreb,
Revue de l’Occident Musulman & de la Méditerranée, n° 41-42, 1996 : 136-157. 

 

B. Lortat-Jacob, Musique et fêtes au Haut-Atlas, Paris : Éditions Musicales
Transatlantiques (1980). 

 

G. Maurer, “L’homme et les montagnes atlasiques au Maghreb”, Annales de
Géographie, Jan-Feb. 1996 : 47-72. 

 

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trans.),
London: Frank Cass (1973). 

 

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(O. Aherdan, ed.), Rabat, March 1998. 

 

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Paul (1986). 

 

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attitudes”, Tribe and State: essays in honour of David Mongomery Hart, (E.G.H.
Joffé & C.R. Pennell, eds.), Wisbech: Menas Press (1991: 159-181). 

 

C.R. Pennell, Morocco : from empire to independence, Oxford, pp. 31-37, 
(2003). 

 

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(Maroc)”, Revue de Géographie Alpine, Grenoble, n°2/1976: 327-363. 

 

M. Peyron “Contribution à l’histoire du Haut Atlas oriental : les Ayt Yafelman”,
Revue de l’Occident Musulman & de la Méditerranée, n° 38, 1984-2: 118-135. 

 

M. Peyron, “Mutations en cours dan le mode de vie des Ayt Yafelman (Haut Atlas
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M. Peyron, Rivières profondes/Isaffen Ghbanin, Casablanca : Wallada (1993a). 

 

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ed.)Aix-en-Provence: Édisud, vol. XII, 1993b: 1862-1869. 

 

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Haute Moulouya et le Haut Atlas de Midelt”, Les régions de piémont au Maghreb :
ressources et aménagement, URBAMA, Tours, n°26, 1994a: 71-79. 

 

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en immigration ; la frontière des genres en question, (C. Lacoste-Dujardin & M.
Virolle, eds.), Publisud, 1998a : 109-125. 

 

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Publié dans Berber history, Berber oral Literature | Pas de Commentaire »


TOUR OPERATOR WATCH N° 14: MAY-JUNE 2011

Posté par Michael Peyron le 19 juillet 2011

Tour Operator Watch n° 14: May 2011 



After a brief stint around Midelt and Khenifra in mid-April, not to mention
various walks through the Middle Atlas (cf. Tour Operator watch n° 13), the
spring of 2011 afforded further opportunities to grasp various facets of the
on-going tourism scene in Morocco. While a dire drop in actual number of
tourists following the Marrakesh bombing had been feared, things didn’t turn out
quite as bad as expected. All the same, we felt we had to try and beat the
bombers by carrying on undaunted with Atlas mountain-walking. 

So we went out and did just that.



Midelt-Imilchil-Bilouidane, Eastern & Central High Atlas May 13-16 

Our outward bound party of four people in two cars made a first stop in Azrou.
No tourists in sight. At the terrace to the Hôtel des Cèdres, however, we met an
elderly Frenchman, claiming to have married a Moroccan woman who told us he had
opened a gîte under the sign of Chez Ali Baba, at Souk el Had, half way between
Azrou and Khenifra.



   

    Address of guest-house in Souk el Had (between Azrou and Mrirt) run by
retired Frenchman.

Near Timhadit we met a couple of 4×4 heading north. Later, a handful of foreign
bikers were spotted, half a dozen in all, though there were none at Auberge
Ja’afar. According to proprietor, however, plenty of Americans and
New-Zealanders around the previous night; he even claimed the inn was full. 

We passed through sun-baked Rich shortly before lunch-time as temperatures
soared above 30°. Found the place undergoing full-scale transformation of its
downtown; pushed on as rapidly as possible to reasonably shaded riverside picnic
site near Ammouguer. Onward progress revealed frequent places where gravel and
small rocks deposited on tarmac: conditions which are meat and drink to the
trucks, mini-vans and 4×4 that habitually frequent this run. Come August,
however, with the Imilchil Moussem in the offing, the local Travaux Publics will
have to catch up on their road maintenance to facilitate access by
 run-of-the-mill visitors in saloon cars.



 



  K. Mertz, with wife Dagmar, back on scene of long-past photographic exploits,
Ayt ‘Ammer, May 14, 2011 (photo: M. Peyron) 

Accompanying us was veteran photographer Klaus Mertz indulging in a nostalgic
return visit to Imilchil Moussem site at Ayt ‘Ammer for the first time in over
40 years! Back in 1967, his superb black and white studies of Ayt Hadiddou
brides-to-be, shot with a Pentacon 6×6 camera, had adorned the Royal Air Maroc
calendar. Today’s visit proved something of a come-down beneath lowering grey
skies, barely lighting up the deserted spot, though enough to show that cupola
and doors to shrine of Sidi Hmad Lmeghni had been re-painted blue-green (Could
this be Darqawi influence?).



    

   Repainted shrine of Sidi Hmad Oulmeghni, Ayt Aâmar, May 14, 2011 (photo: M.
Peyron)



A few more European-registered 4×4 vehicles (one French, two Brits, two Dutch)
seen between Rich and Imilchil. Just beyond latter town a brace of camping-cars
belonging to senior citizens had found a berth at Tizlit auberge. 

After a short walk around Imilchil, we spent the night at Bassou’s immaculate
little inn.  Only one other guests were a French couple. No backpackers around.
Room satisfactory with shower and comfy bed looking out onto fields back of
hotel. However, wise to avoid room near front of building because of early
morning shindig from cement-mixer and trucks. Dinner and breakfast up to par;
all in all a bargain at DH 170,- per head for half-pension.



  

   Bassou’s lodge on the edge of Imilchil, May 15, 2011 (photo: M. Peyron)



Also checked out a likely-looking, budget-priced stopping-place just across the
way: hotel de l’Avenir. On leaving Imilchil en route for lake Tizlit our
attention was attracted by a panel advertising local tour leaders’ association
(APAME), surprisingly adorned with now rarely seen GTAM mountain/palm-tree logo.



 

  Publicity for local tour leaders, Imilchil, May 15, 2011 (photo: M. Peyron)



 Got in a wee bit of walking around Tizlit. Perfect weather. The lake was a joy
to see, water being at a much higher level than in recent years; cedar
plantations doing surprisingly well along SW shore; coots, ducks and grebes out
in force.

  

    Lake Tizlit showing high water-level and cedar saplings in foreground, May
15, 2011 (photo: M. Peyron)

 In this connection a nearby signpost proclaims existence of Eastern High Atlas
national Park, southern limit of cedar forest, presence of fossils and
likelihood of observing Barbary Sheep, though for that it’s best to work one’s
way further east, towards Tirghist and/or Ou Terbat.



  

 

  Signpost advertising Eastern High Atlas National Park, Tizlit (photo: M.
Peyron)





 Less than satisfactory, however, was the sight of a derelict lakeside building
recently used by indelicate picnickers. If packaging anything to go by, culprits
would again appear to belong to the Iberian fraternity. A timely reminder that
local authorities would do well to remove eyesores such as these, and address
problem of waste disposal, as previously recommended by one of our Moroccan
colleagues.





 

   Spring in full bloom, roadside field between Naour and Larbaâ n-Ouqebli, May
15, 2011 (photo: M. Peyron)



 Moved on into a quiet Atlas backwater: the road from Naour to Taguelft
(tigleft) past Larbaâ n-Ouqebli. Pleasant exchanges in Berber with locals.
Roadside fields a riot of colour: thistles, poppies, green poplars, weeping
willows. Tarmac put in only a few years back but due to defective maintenance is
already heavily potholed; fortunately, however, traffic pretty light along
here.  After crossing sparsely wooded plateau, came a succession of steep
gradients and hairpin turns on descent to Oued Laabid affording distant views of
Bilouidane lake and Central High Atlas summits. Sky turned overcast as on
previous days, but no rain as such. 



Where to stay: Bilouidane 

If you happen to be rolling in lolly or have just won the jackpot, then the
Widiane hotel is the place for you. Completed only last year (2010) on the
strength of a possible economic upturn, this de luxe facility appears to be
having a mild problem netting clients. No wonder. With accommodation at DH
2600,- a night, Thai massage at 400,- and  breakfast at 120,- it’s definitely
not targeting the hoi polloi. Management are, however, thinking in terms of
weekend promotional stays at 18% discount.



   

De luxe water-hole: Widiane hotel at Bilouidane, May 15, 2011 (photo: M. Peyron)



Contrariwise, the Little Morocco « Chez les Berbers » gîte d’étape, next-door to
up-market Chems du Lac hotel, apparently operating in conjunction with a local
Moroccan Berber family, appears to be successfully exploiting the budget-priced,
low-impact camping niche.



   



  Put up at « Chez les Berbers » if you’re out-of-pocket, May 15, 2011 (photo:
M. Peyron)


As luck would have it our party settled for medium-priced, refurbished hotel Bin
El Ouidane, situated next to Cantarel’s marina housing estate. Set well back
from the lake, boasting own swimming-pool, it does have outlet to aquatic
sports, though activities,  including kayaking and quad biking, do extend to
trekking.



 

 





  Quad bike line-up outisde  hotel Bin el Ouidane, May 15, 2011 (photo: M.
Peyron)

A riad-style room (similar to that at Ouzoud) was available for DH 600,-
including breakfast. AC available and recommended, with temperatures at around
30°. Though unsollicited, a young lady did attempt to access our room in the
small hours! For dinner (including vino), served in well-appointed upstairs
restaurant avec vue sur le lac, we had to pay extra, of course. Berber-speaking
maître d’, however, is a credit to the establishment.   



 

 Breakfast-room at Bin el Ouidane hotel, May 16, 2011 (photo: M. Peyron)



Zat-Ourika region, Marrakesh High Atlas May 21-26 

Five days with two French companions (Michel Morgenthaler and Eric Hatt) on a
classic leg of the GTAM through a relatively unspoiled High Atlas region,
carrying 7-8kg packs and with a locally recruited unqualified guide. Almost like
old times. Actually guide’s name was Aomar from Afrah village, son of old
acquaintance Ahmed n-Ayt Boulman. Blue skies greeted us for a mid-morning,
2-hour ride in a Trans Almou coach from Bab Doukkala in Marrakesh to Taddert,
which used to be this writer’s base camp during his early mountaineering days in
the 1960-70s with Maurice Forseilles.



As it was just past noon, we treated ourselves to  Ahmed Bokar’s excellent
tajines and kebab at Le Jardin, just across the street from the coach stop.
Three or four European guests at other tables.  Lunch over, we made relatively
short work of the gradients to Afrah village (1h30 out from Taddert), where we
bumped into Ahmed n-Ayt Boulman in the middle of the path as he was trying to
get a signal (rizzu) on his mobile. This worthy, quite a mountaineer in his day,
had accompanied us up nearby peaks forty years before, when he had had us in
fits because of his bare-footed antics on snowslopes! There ensued a cheerful
reunion-cum-photo-occasion with Ahmed’s grand-daughters joining in for good
measure. 

 

   Family shot with Ahmed n-Ayt Boulman, Afrah village, May 21, 2011 (photo: M.
Peyron)





This follow-through of a portion of the GTAM showed, even more than on a
previous visit in 1999, to what extent secondary paths, especially those serving
side-valleys, have fallen into disuse, the emphasis now being on deep
penetration pistes for 4×4 vehicles following main valley bottom wherever
possible. As in Upper Zat as far as Imerguen. A development that  serves both
market-bound hillmen and TOs, and will probably soon make the baggage-mule
redundant, except with animals earmarked for use by commercial caravans on
high-level routes. 

 

  « Short-cut » path (L) on approach to Imadsen, Zat valley, May 22, 2011
(photo: M. Peyron)



It was certainly the case regarding our hopefully time-saving “short-cut” from
Asats to Imadsen via Asaka-Hangir and Tizi n-Wakal. Of reasonable viability
between Asats and Tizi n-Wakal, beyond the col the eroded path became quite
hairy in places. On the long drawn-out flanking descent to Imadsen at times it
was quite easy to lose the trail, requiring skilled navigation and sturdy
ankles. In the end, it proved an exhausting, totally pointless exercise. 

 

   E. Hatt & M. Morgenthaler after aborting attempt on Tizi n-Teinant, May 23,
2011 (photo: M. Peyron)



For similar reasons we were compelled to abort a bid on Tizi n-Teinant. After an
energetic early morning footslog up path from Imerguen to Ansa, then completing
lengthy detour along stream-beds and irrigation ditches, we reverted to main
valley and tried to follow riverside path that skirted walnut trees up past some
‘azib-s. Everything looked hunky-dory. We seemed all set for Tizi n-Teinant. 

 

It was not to be. A few hundred yards up-valley the trail simply petered out
half-way over a boulder slope scoured by erosion runnels. Proving that what a
Berber woman had told me minutes earlier was only too true: “išqa fell-ak. ibbey
uġarass s-unzar d-iselliwn!” (“It’s too difficult for you. The path has been
destroyed by rain- and stone-fall!”). 

  

   Ansa village, upper Zat valley; note satellite dishes, May 23, 2011 (photo:
M. Peyron)



 Barely recovered from boulder indigestion, we ambled back  and were surprised
to see a few iris (susban), coloured a bold blue, edging some vegetable patches
near Ansa, contrary to previous recollections of a flower usually at its best
around end-March. Later, entire fields dedicated to this plant (sometimes
sharing space with cherry trees) were seen at Ouarzazt up on Yagour plateau.
Local Berbers have taken to cultivating this plant because of demand from
Moroccan pharmaceutical trade. 

  

    Beyond the yellow flowers a field of iris, Yagour, May 24, 2011 (photo: M.
Peyron)



   

     Ouarzazt village, 3/4 empty before summer arrival of massed herds, May 24,
2011 (photo: M. Peyron)

The Ouarzazt hamlet, which this writer put on the trekking map back in 1976
while reconnoitring the Bougemmaz-Oukaimedden leg of the GTAM, has since
developed out of all proportions. From unprepossessing, temporary ‘azib-s the
locals have graduated to handsome and comfortable symmetrical houses of dry
stone, with roofs a medley of poplar cross-beams and sandstone slabs. The
village is actually only fully lived in from late-June to end-September when
flocks arrive en masse.

 

   Typical dry-stone house on Yagour plateau, May 25, 2011 (photo: M. Peyron)





Fields of wheat, ripening and undulating in the breeze, monopolize most of the
flat ground over scores of acres across the neighbouring plateau.  During the
last two days of our little traverse, the weather took a decided turn for the
worse. In fact, it rained practically all night (May 24-25).

Next morning we were off by 9am after donning foul weather gear. In the
intermittent rain the vast green expanses of the Yagour appeared at their best.
In places grass and other vegetation were two feet high. At least seven
varieties of flower observed, while three species of mushroom grew in profusion.
A lone toad, some 6” long, and several tree frogs were seen lurking by small
tarn known as Dayet n-Ifferd – a particularly fine spot, with the snow-streaked
peak of Meldsen mirrored in its waters. 

    

      No Mrs Tittlemouse around! Jackson the toad skulking in pond-side
vegetation, Dayet n-Ifferd, May 25, 2011 (photo: M. Peyron)



Two commercial caravans were met on Yagour plateau: the first near Dayet
n-Ifferd and its famous site of prehistoric rock carvings. This party was led by
two apparently competent, serious-looking Moroccan guides with seven-eight
tourists (mostly French), all humping light day packs. 



 

  TO group at Dayet n-Ifferd, Yagour plateau, May 25, 2011 (photo: M. Peyron)

An hour down the trail we met another very laid-back  group headed by leader
Brahim from Ayt Bougemmaz, in company with another Moroccan and six French
tourists gallivanting along the path: four boys, hands in pockets; two girls
with couple of day packs. In each case standard arrangement of unimpeded
trekkers with luggage  and camping equipment following on back-up mules.



   

    Leisurely backpacking on Yagour plateau, our laidback « guide » in
foreground, 2nd TO group, May 25, 2011 (photo: M. Peyron)



Serious backpacking, however, as still practiced by yours faithfully on this
particular trip, appears to be on the way out! Just to set the record straight,
however, the next day, while descending from Wigrane village to Sti Fatma, we
were passed by a private party of three youthful Frenchmen with backpacks;
former Marrakshi residents revisiting old haunts. Welcome news since it showed
that mountain-walkers were not allowing the post Marrakesh bombing atmosphere to
interfere overmuch with their travel plans. 

  

   Serious backpacking: M. Morgenthaler & E. Hatt at Tizi n-Ghellis
with footsore « guide », Meltsen in background, May 25, 2011 (photo: M. Peyron)

Forsaking the standard descent down past awesome waterfalls and Annamer’s
irrigated terraces, our guide led us left at the trail-fork along another
extended flanking traverse through clumps of asphodel. There were impressive
views down over terraced Ayt Oucheg villages, and beyond the Ourika valley to
where snow-capped Tougroudaden and Anghomar loomed out of the thunderclouds. 

 

   Tougroudaden (L) and Anghomar in middle distance from above Wigran village,
May 25, 2011 (photo: M. Peyron)

 Penultimate section of our 5-day traverse entailed negotiating
a twisting, stony path down to Wigran village after a pretty good day (8 hours
on trail). Aomar managed to find first-class accommodation in house where
middle-aged couple were living with married son and his cheerful young wife.
Peaceful night.

Following morning after breakfast the final stretch into the Ourika valley took
us less than two hours and, after crossing the hanging bridge over the raging
torrent, we paid off our « guide ». All in all  a friendly, good-natured
chappie, but next time he might choose suitable footwear to guarantee a smoother
walk!

As light drizzle was developing into a full-sized downpour we put our best foot
forward in the direction of Sti Fatma to find a taxi. There was hardly a soul in
sight, except for a couple of French backpackers kitted out in water-proofs and,
not to be outdone by the rain, sturdily striding along the tarmac. Just then a
taxi hove into sight, we clinched an almost instant deal in Berber, and minutes
later were speeding towards Marrakesh. Several minibuses and a 50-seater coach
or two seen en route proved yet again that tourist-wise the Arghana café bombing
had not yet brought things to a standstill. Lunch at hotel Ali rounded off a far
from unsatisfactory trip.

Touch of nostalgia tinged with regret, however, for this little stint along the
old GTAM underscored the fact that, given the pace of change in the backpacking
world, the number of individual footsloggers was declining in the face of unfair
competition from commercial caravans.

Grenoble, July 18, 2011 

The Lone Backpacker 

michael.peyron@voila.fr 

Publié dans Tour Operator Watch | Pas de Commentaire »


TOUR OPERATOR WATCH N° 13 END-APRIL 2011

Posté par Michael Peyron le 5 mai 2011

Tour Operator Watch n° 13 



End-April 2011 



Introduction 

It was bound to happen sooner or later. The boom recently enjoyed by Morocco’s
thriving tourism industry, the envy of less fortunate lands, was perhaps too
good to last. For some months, even years, ever since the 2003 Casablanca
bombings, radio-trottoir (as the local rumour-mill is sometimes called) had
entertained fears of similar, Al-Qaeda-inspired outrages on tourist “soft”
targets in Morocco. 



Now, true to form, despicable terrorists have left their mark. The Café Argana,
a popular favourite with visitors to Jemaa el Fna square, Marrakesh, was hit on
Thursday, April 28 with fatal results. The death toll stands at 17, with a score
or more wounded. Universal indignation and condemnation was clearly and
justifiably voiced almost immediately afterwards when hundreds of Marrakshis
took to the streets. King Mohammed VI (agellid-nneġ) was also quick to visit the
blighted spot to express concern and sympathy. 



To a long-term European resident in Morocco, who feels more than a little
affection for the country and its people, such an event is particularly
sad, even tragic, striking as it does a grievous blow at the heart of its
ancient, iconic capital city. The very target-name is significant. Argana, a
large village at the end of the Western High Atlas, stands for the hard-working
ašelḥiy community, many of whom depend on tourism for their livelihood. Argana
is also traditionally famous for its large collective bee-hive, evocative of the
sweetness associated with true tament (‘honey’) – not the industrial,
sugar-added variety, but the authentic tabeldiyt  product. 





Such a dire event will lead more than one to eat humble pie. Even the present
writer who, holding out for small private parties visiting either on their own
or through Morocco-based agencies, guides and lodges, is well-known for his
critical views on foreign, TO-supported saturation tourism. In the present
circumstances, while sharing the grief of those who lost loved ones, and
regretting that some visitors may shelve their travel plans in the immediate
future, we can but hope that there will be a speedy return to normal. With – no
doubt a pipe dream – small groups of well-informed, environmentally-motivated
visitors continuing without any let-up to tramp Morocco’s hills. Bear in mind
that “small is beautiful” and environment-friendly.   



What became of those Iberian cohorts? 



While early-April usually witnesses the arrival en masse of Iberian off-road
vehicles and assorted trail-bikes, they have been conspicuously absent this
spring. With the shining exception of a convoy of a dozen Portuguese 4 x 4
enthusiasts on the motorway near Oued Beht on April 15, their national flag
proudly fluttering in the breeze, as if in defiance of proposed EU economic
bail-out! Not to mention several vehicles with French number plates seen near
Marrakech over the April 23-24 (Easter) weekend.



But that still didn’t explain where the Spanish contingent had gone to.  Two
weeks earlier there had indeed been long faces in Midelt. “The Spaniards are
broke. They just can’t afford Morocco this year!” we were told at the
half-deserted parking lot outside the Auberge Itto Ja’afar. 



However, if the Spanish off-roaders are apparently taking time out in the
pollution game, they are being replaced by others. On April 12, when we returned
to a certain neck of the woods in the ‘Ayyachi foothills (desecrated by Malaga
mountain-bikers in late-March of 2010; cf. Tour Operator Watch n° 10) it was
interesting to compare this year’s pollution samples with those of 2010. As
visible evidence of Spanish absenteeism, sardine-can wrappers and other junk
were mostly in French, some in Arabic, suggesting locally purchased items.      





                 

      Pollution samples, Mitkane crossroads, Apr 12, 2011 (photo: M. Peyron)   



Who then, were the culprits this time around? Our hunch: either French 4-WD
exponents, or Moroccan workmen employed on the local forestry development
project who didn’t bother to clean up after their picnic lunch. Significantly,
however, use of Mitkane crossroads (Bou Ouddi) as a rubbish tip, continues
unabated a year later. Such blatant disrespect for a choice woodland site is
somehow at variance with the much-publicised Tounfit area development project! 
  The present writer may be guilty of over-reacting, but he and the now
threatened cedars of the Mitkane crossroads go back a long way. That’s where he
came through in July 1967 on an early visit to the area, while in April 1974 he
reached it on ski from the Mitkane Forestry Hut and, as he waited for his
companions, even had time to shave with a blunt razor, some toilet soap and
melt-water from a snowball. It was also the spot chosen by our vehicle back-up
team to collect us after a first Ayyachi circuit (“le Tour de l’Ayyachi”) in
August 1976. The place was rubbish-free at the time – probably because to get
there you had to brave a bumpy rutted track. Since 2009, tarmac (gudrun as the
Berbers call it), in connection with the Tamalout dam project, has become the
thin end of the wedge. The results are all too plain to see.   



 Snowcover on ‘Ayyachi 

    

    Snowclad N slopes of  ’Ayyachi, May 28 1972 (photo: M. Peyron)  



Snowcover on ‘Ayyachi continues to recede year after year, no doubt due to
climate change. By all accounts the winter of 2010-2011 was a pretty dry one.
The accompanying photos of ‘Ayyachi would certainly appear to argue in favour of
a marked shortfall in snowcover, especially compared to conditions in the early
1970s, memories of which are recalled as if belonging to a Golden Age!  



      

  ‘Ayyachi N slopes from Imtchimen, March 28, 2010 (photo: M. Peyron)



       Largely snowfree N slopes of ‘Ayyachi from Imtchimen, Apr 12, 2011
(photo: M. Peyron)





Hotels, gîtes, etc.



1) Ouzoud waterfalls 

  



Largely spoiled by excessive development this once attractive site boasts
several places to spend the night at varying prices. Comfortable, twin-bed
accommodation provided at Riad Cascades d’Ouzoud will put you back some DH 700,-
Breakfast, however not quite up to high standard of room; could definitely have
been better (sampled on morning of March 30, 2010). Probably something to do
with fact that the patron was absent. When the cat is away…



2) More on the Ourthane eco-lodge at Zaouit ech-Cheikh.  



 

    

  

 Situated a few miles SW of Zaouit ech-Cheikh and just off the main
Marrakech-Fez road, the Ourthane lodge is something of a pioneer in terms of a
user- and environment-friendly lodge geared to the requirements of small groups.
Especially those with specialist interest (environment, ornithology, history,
ethnology, Amazigh lore, etc.)



 3)    Update on Midelt hotels: In a previous article we came to the rescue of
Midelt’s hotels which had been taking something of a bashing, mostly on
trip.advisor.com. Herewith miscellaneous details and pictures on the topic.    





  

      Auberge Itto Ja’afar, sporting a new SE wing, April 11, 2011 (photo: M.
Peyron) 





 The Auberge Itto Ja’afar continues to provide comfortable beds and good food,
and Saïd the owner is as friendly and hospitable as ever. However, do check your
restaurant bill carefully; the Maître d’ has been known to overcharge. If you
want to have a hot shower, allow the water to run for 3-4 minutes. 

 

     

   Keeping the competition on its toes, Midelt, Apr 13, 2011 (photo: M.
Peyron)  



Some friendly street-corner competition appears to be raging between the classic
Hotel El Ayachi and the new Riad Villa Midelt guest house, if these signposts
are anything to go by (compare with « Hotel Wars, 2001″, pictured elsewhere on
this website).                                

             Hotel Taddart, Midelt, Apr 13, 2011 (photo: M. Peyron)    





The new de luxe Hotel Taddart is a rambling, imitation Kasbah, but a fine
looking building for all that. It is situated outside of town, on the left as
you arrive from Meknes. Appeared to all intents and purposes empty on the
morning of April 14. In fact they’ll probably have a job filling it up, unless
they can book mammoth groups.  But they’ll have to encourage parties to use it
as an excursion-base, and that’ll entail developing local expertise in
guide-training, then reconnoitring worthwhile nearby sites for visitors.





4)    Azrou: the Hotel Restaurant des Cèdres, with its period furniture and
reasonably clean rooms, one of which actually boasts a shower (complete with
hot-water), remains excellent value for money. The restaurant serves palatable
food.  We warmly recommend this facility, either as a staging-point on a long
trip, or as a local excursion-base.           

   Hotel-restaurant des Cèdres, Azrou, Apr 15, 2011 (photo: M. Peyron)





5)    Where to stay in Marrakesh    



             

   Hotel El Andalous, Marrakesh, Apr 22, 2011 (photo: M. Peyron) 



A posh, up-market sort of place, the Hotel El Andalous, boasts an attractive,
tree-lined swimming-pool with constant over-flight by bulbuls, pigeons, sparrows
and house buntings. Beds are comfortable, nocturnal rowdiness almost
non-existent, especially in rooms on the higher floors. The now classic buffet
breakfast is user-friendly, and ranges from standard Continental fare with
French rolls and coffee, to full slap-up grub including eggs, cereals and
what-have-you. A basement restaurant that also serves as a sort of night-club,
with dimmed lights (don’t forget your specs if you want to study the menu!),
will put you out of pocket to the tune of DH 180,- for a 37-cl bottle of local
Sahari wine, bread and olives for starters, and a plate of cheese-flavoured
pasta as main course.  However, it’s well worth it and the staff are polite and
attentive.



        

      Easter weekend tourists outside Hotel Ali, Apr 24, 2011 (photo: M.
Peyron)   





Far more basic, the good old Hotel Ali, just 50 yards from Jamaa el Fnaa,
provides accommodation in the DH 200-320 price bracket (see full report on this
establishment elsewhere on this website). 

Marrakesh: the bubble has burst 

Predictably, in the wake of serious trouble across the MENA area in February of
this year, and even before the  cowardly April 28th bombing of the Argana Café,
on Jemaa el Fna square, real estate prices in and around Marrakesh had come
tumbling down. It was bound to happen sooner or later; the riad craze couldn’t
last indefinitely. In early April 2011 the going price for riads, in particular,
had significantly declined – in some instances by as much as 30 %! 



As he leaves the ramparts of the Red City and heads towards the Ourika valley
the traveller cannot fail to notice the cranes standing idle at umpteen empty
building sites. Supply had arguably been outpacing demand, anyway, with
potentially negative repercussions on the local aquifer. The only positive angle
to the present slow-down that one can possibly find is that it will bring some
measure of relief to common-or-garden drinking-water – a much-abused resource; a
fact of life to which silent sprinklers, jaded jacuzis and half-finished
swimming-pools of de luxe housing estates bear mute testimony. What with drought
in Morocco just round the corner, at least it will give the water-table a rest. 



However, as we shall see in the subsequent paragraph, before the April 28th
explosion, Marrakesh had been weathering the on-going politico-economic storm
reasonably well. It is only to be hoped that there will be no further terrorist
outrages so that the return to normality may occur as soon as possible.





Short-lived Easter weekend bonanza  While the ranks of tourists had been
thinning somewhat around the country in general, it was clear that Marrakech was
acting as a heaven-sent alternative destination to all those potential visitors
to Tunisian beaches and Egypt’s pyramids. In March and early-April of 2011
reports from the Red City spoke of scarce hotel vacancies. When we visited over
the Easter weekend there certainly seemed to be no dearth of tour buses; Jemaa
el Fna, that famous square, was literally crawling with foreign visitors.
Horse-drawn carriages did appear to be awaiting customers; otherwise
story-tellers, dancers, and snake-charmers were doing a roaring trade; nearby
restaurants were packed. Numerous Easter holiday vacationers from Europe had
obviously been taking advantage of cheap package tickets, and were much in
evidence en famille. A kind of mini-boom was under way.

         

       Bikers cruising pas Agelmam n-Tghalouine, Middle Atlas, Apr 18, 2011
(photo: M. Peyron)



But it was the bikers, mostly from Britain, France and Germany, that seemed to
be spear-heading this mini-invasion. Along roads leading to and from Marrakech
they were surging along, their headlamps on; often as many as 15 bikes together.
Nor were they absent from the Rabat-Meknes motorway and Ifrane/Azrou area. Some
even roared past in a cloud of dust along a forest track as we were backpacking
on April 18 south of the Michliffen resort (Middle Atlas).

This dynamic presence raises hopes for the coming months. We somehow feel that
the bikers, as personifications of mobility and liberty, will find it hard to
neglect Morocco’s wide open reaches. Wishful thinking? Perhaps not. Anyway, only
time can tell.



Conclusion



And now, in the aftermath of the Marrakesh bombing, hopes may have been
temporarily dashed. Yet is this not the time to come out of one’s corner
fighting? Though it is still too early to evaluate fall-out from the Café Argana
outrage, it is hard to believe that the flow of Morocco-bound visitors is going
to dry up overnight simply because of that one event. That tourist intake will
be curtailed there is little doubt. As a knock-on effect, hotel, lodge and
guest-house bookings may not pick up before autumn of 2011. This writer,
however, while monitoring the situation closely, and displaying some caution,
will definitely not stay away from the Atlas Mountains. Even better, he will
encourage his backpacking friends and acquaintances to do likewise. Don’t let a
splinter-group of misguided killjoys govern your lives! 



michael.peyron@voila

Publié dans Tourisme de montagne Atlas marocain | Pas de Commentaire »


A LA RECHERCHE D’UN IMAGINAIRE : CAS DU MAROC TOURISTIQUE

Posté par Michael Peyron le 4 mai 2011

A la recherche d’un imaginaire : cas du Maroc touristique



Il est avéré que les touristes européens et/ou américains, avertis ou non, qui
visitent le Maroc depuis une dizaine d’années, sont en quête d’un imaginaire
façonné par leur propre esprit, et en fonction des représentations souvent
factices dont ils se gargarisent à l’égard du pays. Aidé en cela par une
certaine lecture de l’histoire, influencée depuis des lustres par un
Orientalisme facile et tenace, sans parler des sites web, des médias prompts à
la surenchère, de certains auteurs à la mode traitant du monde maghrébin. En
fait, les gens – autant d’egos qui se trimbalent et qui veulent satisfaire leurs
petites envies – se contrebalancent de la vérité, de la réalité des choses.
Actuellement, on est de plus en plus en empathie envers son environnement
social, voire naturel, ce qui génère un égo-centrisme forcené que l’on veut
satisfaire à tout prix. Peu importe la non-vérité qui voit alors le jour, pourvu
qu’il y ait ivresse des sens et de l’esprit ! 

Que représente la destination Maroc pour le visiteur étranger ?

L’idée qu’il se fait du pays, et en partie des monts de l’Atlas et du Grand Sud,
est basée sur une mythologie (voire d’une vulgate), toute en trompe l’œil,
soigneusement entretenue par les voyagistes. Imaginaire peuplé d’êtres aux
contours parfois flous : le cavalier de fantasia, le nomade chamelier, l’Homme
bleu, le Touarègue, le Berbère, ou Amazigh (‘homme libre’) que l’on assaisonne à
toutes les sauces. Sans parler d’un petit brin de Saint-Exupéry qui flotte dans
l’air, mythe de l’Aéro-Postale oblige. Curieusement, aussi, Laurence
d’Arabie figure au sein de cet improbable Panthéon en tant qu’invité surprise !
Jusqu’à un hôtel marrakchi qui portera son nom.  Lui qui n’a jamais mis les
pieds au Maroc, si ce n’est que par Peter O’Toole interposé… 



À cette overdose d’esbroufe, à ces personnages de légende s’ajoutent des espaces
privilégiés : les cascades d’Ouzoud transformées en parc d’attraction ; le
Toubkal (4167m) culminant et ses satellites d’un accès facile ; le puissant
Mgoun aux rédibitoires pierriers qu’arpentent des norias de trekkeurs en
juillet-août; le pays Ayt Bouguemmez devenu « Vallée Heureuse » avec ses gîtes
dits « de charme »; les roches peintes de l’Anti-Atlas ;
les somptueux paysages d’Ouarzazat, dignes d’un film à la James Bond ; les dunes
de Merzouga sur lesquelles planent l’ombre de Paul Bowles, grâce au film Un thé
au Sahara (alias The Sheltering Sky – in Anglish in ze texte), et où évoluent
des colporteurs travestis en Sahariens soucieux de proposer bijoux touarègues et
kilims berbères garantis d’origine ! Ce qui se pratique depuis belle lurette au
Moussem d’Imilchil, autre évènement phare de l’année touristique. Interrogé in
situ en Tamazight par nos soins, l’un de ces fameux « Touarègues » au chèche
bleu a avoué venir tout simplement de Tamtettoucht sur le versant sud du Haut
Atlas ! Ben voyons… Car les locaux ont vite compris que les vacanciers venaient
chez eux appréhender non pas la stricte réalité, mais (histoire de nourrir leurs
phantasmes) une certaine dimension légendaire du pays… Pourquoi alors ne pas en
rajouter au besoin ? 

C’est de bonne guerre.



Aussi, afin de mieux vivre son trip aux ambitions sahariennes, afin de se fondre
dans la masse en goguette, convient-il au « Package tourist » de se déguiser en
Homme bleu. Cela devient quasi-obsessionnel. Mieux, le visiteur est ouvertement
encouragé à s’accoutrer ainsi. « Pour   faire authentique », lui dira-t-on. 
Alors que cela relève du plus pur « bidon » !



Seulement voilà. Petit problème. Les dunes de Merzouga ou les replats de
M’hamid, perçus comme espace saharien par excellence, sont au Diable Vauvert par
rapport à la Ville Rouge. Alors, aux portes mêmes de la capitale du sud, du côté
de Lalla Takerkoust, il a fallu a créer de toutes pièces un ersatz, un
succédané : le désert marrakshi (ou d’Agafay).

  

Là, en pleine cambrousse aride, à quelques minutes d’hélico du centre ville, on
propose pour environ € 3650 par personne un weekend « en plein désert », en
logeant sous la toujours très « authentique » kheima berbère (avec tente lounge
attenante et vins fins à discrétion), animée par des soirées avec danses, non
moins « berbères » elles aussi ; le tout agrémenté de journées en quad, à
cheval, à dromadaire, ou en 4 x 4. Histoire de se la jouer en s’offrant un petit
« Dakar » sur mesure ! Ou bien, satisfaire une certaine soif d’idéalisme
romantique nomade censée sommeiller chez tout cadre supérieur stressé. 

Normal, non ? Il l’aura lu dans des bouquins ou les journaux ; vu à la télé,
surtout. A présent, son trip, il va le réaliser !

On l’aura compris, envisagé sous cet angle, le droit de s’éclater, de se mettre
dans la peau d’un baroudeur du désert, ne serait-ce que 48 heures, demeure pour
les TO une ressource quasiment inépuisable, éminemment monnayable. D’autant plus
que le consommateur de ce genre de prestation peut se rassurer à l’idée qu’il
contribue à l’éco-tourisme, notion à la mode, tant il est facile de
s’auto-convaincre que l’on fait ainsi œuvre utile. Guère besoin, d’ailleurs, de
forcer la main à notre candidat à l’évasion. Les publicistes des TO jouent sur
du velours. Grâce à quoi, rassurons-nous, nos chers voyagistes ont encore devant
eux de beaux jours à fignoler des produits toujours plus alléchants.

Rabat, le 25/04/2011



michael.peyron@voila.fr



PS – Note « pondue » suite à une conversation à Midelt avec Carolina Mackenzie.
Pour en savoir plus sur ce sujet passionnant, nous renvoyons le lecteur à
l’analyse très fine de Jean-Didier Urbain, L’idiot du voyage, Histoire de
touristes, Payot, 1993.

Publié dans Tourisme de montagne Atlas marocain | Pas de Commentaire »


TOUR OPERATOR WATCH N° 12: MIDELT HOTELS AND COMMERCIAL CARAVANS IN MOROCCO’S
EASTERN HIGH ATLAS (+ MISCELLANEOUS ITEMS)

Posté par Michael Peyron le 28 janvier 2011

Tour Operator Watch n° 12: Midelt hotels and commercial caravans in Morocco’s
Eastern High Atlas  (+ miscellaneous items)   

Introduction   



As readers may well recall, three or so years back our “Tour Operator watch”
series carried a feature on out-of-the-way reaches of the Atlas, such as Bou
Iblan and ‘Ayyachi, in which we highlighted the small number of TOs that
programmed these destinations. In the interval the message appears to have been
received loud and clear, as a brace of big-name overseas TOs eager to make a
killing, together with several local agencies and guides, now target these
areas. Also, in n° 6 of the same series we published a short, critical piece on
hotels in Midelt, an ideal  base camp for forays into these massifs and the
major jumping-off  point for parties tackling the GTAM. 



Our purpose in this article is, first, to take up the cudgels on behalf of
Midelt hotels, which have recently been coming in for more than their fair share
of flak; second, to focuss on TO websites with a view to exposing and correcting
some of the inevitable inaccuracies that creep into their on-line discourse. 
TOs should not take this amiss as they definitely stand to gain by projecting an
image of efficiency and accuracy, rather than the sloppy, “anything goes”
impression their brochure talk may at times convey. In fact, one wonders
how certain agents can keep a straight face the way they continue publishing the
same titbits of pure twaddle, year in, year out!  As usual, of course,we also
hope to convince individual backpackers to dispense with the service of TOs,
glean as much information as possible from books and web, and ultimately do
their own thing, possibly recruiting their own guides and/or porters on the
spot. 



Are Midelt hotels really that bad? 



If anything, reports on Midelt hotels have worsened over the past three years.
Of the three best-known contenders, Kasbah Asmaa, Auberge Itto Ja’afar and Hôtel
El Ayachi are classified in that order, from least bad downwards, according to
traveller review ratings published by www.tripadvisor.com. Even the brand-new
(fall 2010) Hôtel Taddart, just outside town on the west side, registered one
shockingly poor report; three, however, were more positive. Meanwhile, a less
well-known facility, Villa Riad, had quietly netted only one review, yet a
positive one at that.



Although not actually sited near Midelt, but right out in the countryside closer
to Zeida, some 20 km up the road towards Azrou, is the road-side Auberge Timnay.
This well-appointed establishment goes in for the full range of travellers,
whether down- or up-market and is a very pleasant place to stay at. Run by
Youssef Ait Lemkadem, it organizes hybrid tours (4×4 + walks) in the Eastern
High Atlas region, prioritizing an environment-friendly approach to Berber 
culture.


 

But it’s among the above-listed “big three” that ratings have been consistently
bad to average. El Ayachi, which comes across as Heath-Robinson, old-fashioned
and dirty, is placed firmly at the bottom of the list; not one reviewer would
recommend the place to a friend! And yet travelwizard.com, a California-based
consultant who goes in for Luxury Travel Packages, would appear to differ. In
its “Jaffar-Ayachi vacation” description this firm publishes a statement that is
less than accurate: “The efficiently run Hôtel Ayachi is an ideal base for
excursions to the Cirque of Jaffar and Jebel Ayachi”.

     

       How to hoodwink customers; picture of some other hotel purporting to
illustrate Hôtel El Ayachi (photo: info@belgavoyages.be)    



As for Belga Voyages (from Belgium) they not only publish a totally false
picture of the El Ayachi hôtel (the one depicted above is of another
establishment), but wax unnecessarily eloquent: “Une adresse de référence… Souci
du détail jusqu’aux poignées de portes (…) ambiance cosy (…) une halte poétique
pour nomade de luxe ” !! Another consultant (annuaires.phpbb-seo.com) publishes
an equally favourable report. Surely, the truth must lie somewhere between these
misleading items of info and the findings of www.tripadvisor.com? 





  

   What Hôtel El Ayachi actually looks like (from the hôtel brochure, circa
2004)

In actual fact it does and this writer, who has known the place for upwards of
forty years, will now go out and bat for the El Ayachi side. Admittedly, the
hotel is antiquated, slightly run-down and guilty at times of slipshod
management. Yet, the bed-rooms are comfortable. There may not always be hot
water, but put in an inquiry at the desk and you’ll probably get results. The
last time we were there (night of Jan 21-22, 2011) there was scalding water on
tap! If the room’s freezing, get the staff to set up an electric heater. Indeed,
the people at the hotel (especially Ali, the manager) are generally friendly,
hospitable, and anxious to please, while the quality of the food is
above-average by local standards. It probably has something to do with the fact
that the place has specialized for the last twenty years in luncheons for
tourist coaches on the Fez-Erfoud run, now served in a comfortable, refurbished
veranda restaurant. Furthermore, the surrounding gardens are as likely a spot to
enjoy a sun-downer as you could wish for; the breakfasts, which may be served on
the terrace depending on season, are generally wholesome and adequate – you can
get a fry-up if you ask for one.



The other two of the better-known establishments, the Kasba Asmaa and Auberge
Itto Ja’afar, share almost equal ratings. The former, sited outside town on the
road to Rich, is readily accessible, hospitable and generally adequate for
overnighters. Lots of groups stop there. Our own experience is that the beds are
comfortable, the food palatable; as for the urinals in the ground-floor toilets,
complete with a Madame Pipi, they are kept spotlessly clean. However, the place
tends to be criticized for its tired-looking appearance, dusty carpets, poor
plumbing and dubious-looking swimming-pool. As one French reviewer wisecracks,
referring to Kasbah Asmaa: “Moyen… comme l’Atlas”! 



  The Auberge Itto Ja’afar, outside Midelt, May 2008 (photo: M. Peyron)

The Auberge Itto Ja’afar, way out of town at the foot of Jbel ‘Ayyachi, has been
taken to task as a “random fake castle experience”, a definition that actually
comes dangerously close to describing other establishments in town. Some
travellers have also criticicized its poor cuisine.  They have a point, mind
you, as meals can be iffy. For example: one evening in March 2010 we sampled an
absolutely scrumptious cous-cous; the next we attempted to dine off leathery
brochettes and half cooked vegetables. Which is perhaps why one report says:
“Luckily we stayed just one night only”.  By and large, however, our experience
at this inn over the past 10 years (practically since it was founded) is that
board and lodging are reasonably good. In fact, a more sensible reviewer proved
quite ecstatic: “I loved the place for its ramshackle authenticness. (…) Now
you’re in Africa!”



Which perhaps sums up the way one should approach these Midelt hotels.  It’s all
about being a nomade, but not necessarily a  de luxe one! “You’re in Africa!”
means that certain uptight tourists should let themselves go; give up their
spoiled-brat, consumer-inspired expectations of
spit-and-polish-cum-air-conditioning, and face up with humour, tempered by
fortitude, to novel situations. Then, when confronted with the miscellaneous yet
on the whole adequate accommodation that Midelt can provide, they’ll come to see
that they’re not so badly done by, after all. 



 Commercial caravans in the Eastern High Atlas   



 Evening view of Jbel Ma’asker from 3 km SW of Tounfit, as the cows come home,
Oct. 1973 (photo: M. Peyron)

While tourists coming in through Fez  have a distinct advantage as regards the
drive to base camp (only 4 hours by road), the length of the Saïs airport runway
has so far precluded landings by wide-bodied jets, thus limiting passenger
intake. And keeping activity definitely small-time. Conversely, the one snag
that has badgered TOs attempting to set up Eastern High Atlas tours from
Marrakech has for long been the sheer distance involved in getting there (7-8
hours by road). Not to mention the long haul back on the last day from somewhere
high up in the Ta’ara’art valley. Especially when most prospective trekkers
are investing in a one-week package. As a result, air traffic through Fez
remains minimal, with only one locally operating Moroccan guide, the lion’s
share of the market going to Marrakech-based agencies. 



What destinations are on offer? The favourite, and by far, is Jbel ‘Ayyachi
(also Djebel Ayachi, à la française),  an iconic summit programmed in various
combinations from all points of the compass, with the basic Tounfit-Imilchil
trek (or vice-versa) coming a close second. 

 

    H. Daoudi & C. Mackenzie near top of Tizi n-Ayt Brahim, Tounfit-Imilchil
traverse, May 1998 (photo: M. Peyron)

Of the local agencies, Périple au Sud, run by an obviously knowledgable, unnamed
Frenchwoman, has programmed a kind of hybrid tour. Instead of a straight, 8-hour
road-bash Marrakech to Imilchil, the party sensibly makes a southern detour,
camping en route, via the Dades and Todgha gorges to reach lake Tislit. From
there begins a 5-day trek to Ja’afar, visiting Tirghist and Agoudim on the way,
‘Ayyachi being scaled by its southern flank from the Ta’ara’art valley. In all,
a potentially attractive tour that takes up some 11 days. 



Other local agencies will take you up ‘Ayyachi from Tounfit via Ta’ara’art, such
as Trekking Holidays in Morocco, within an 8-day tour (choice of airports
between Fez and Marrakech); some programme themselves out of Marrakech (Nature
Trekking Morocco, Toubkal Rando, etc.), and another outfit from Agadir (Maroc
Horizon d’Aventure), though the last-named actually offer trips through
Marrakech.  From Fez, Marrakech or Casablanca, Moulay ‘Abdellah Lharizi of Moyen
Atlas Trekking offers ‘Ayyachi summit on a 5-day trek taking in Tounfit, the
Ta’ara’art valley and Ja’afar.  Abdeltizi, a Fez-based operator, organises a
10-day Imlilchil-Ja’afar trek culminating with an ascent of ‘Ayyachi from Ayt
Ouchen. Azul Travel prove highly innovative, offering a 15-day tour out of
Casblanca taking in Ja’afar-Ayt Ouchen-Ta’ara’art-Tizi n-Mawtfoud-Zaoui Sidi
Hamza. They do a postscriptum including the much-frequented Merzouga
sand-dunes.  The most comprehensive coverage of ‘Ayyachi, however, including a
Midelt-Zaouiat Sidi Hamza traverse, is provided by a Marrakech-based operation
calling itself Marocco Tours and Excursion, on
www.wanderingadventurestrip.moonfruit.com. If their English is somewhat slapdash
their approach is commendably sensitive and insightful.





 View from E end of Ma’asker: Amkaidou (L) & ‘Ayyachi main ridge in distance
(centre R), Tagount (R) , separating Asif Toura n-Ayt Moussa from Toura n-Ayt
Bou ‘Arbi, Nov. 1967 (photo: M. Peyron)

Variations on the Tounfit-Imilchil route are popular. Aziz Rando and Abdeltizi
offer the basic 8-day tour. Local guide Mohammed Daghoghi, now based in southern
Spain and whom we strongly recommend, will accompany you on a 7-day trek from
Imilchil to Midelt via Tounfit between January and June. As for Caravane du Sud,
Zagora, they plan a 29-day traverse from Jbel Ma’asker to Tizi n-Tichka which
follows the Tounfit-Imilchil route for 3 days.   

 

   Highland Berber fortress near Imlilchil, March 2002 (photo: M. Peyron)

International TOs in the area are far from numerous. In fact, there are just
four of them: Celtic Trekking Ltd, a French, Nepal-based trekking agency that
has recently branched out to Morocco, with a certain Aziz, apparently operating
out of Marrakech, as their representative; also Allibert from Savoy, and their
twin, Azur Ever. These two are pioneering a 20-day Ja’afar-Megdaz traverse,
claiming that “le Haut Atlas oriental (a été) absent jusqu’ici des brochures
d’agence” (at best a half-truth), and highlighting “Ayachi, mythique point
culminant du Haut Atlas oriental, sommet peu gravi…”. Atlas Sahara Tours are a
Spanish outfit operating in Morocco who do an 8-day trek taking in Ayachi.

Celtic Trekking, one of the many agencies who need to do some work on their
website, have programmed a choice between an 8-day and a 15-day tour from
Imilchil, exploring what they strangely define as “le Moyen-Atlas méconnu… le
massif Maaskar où s’élève le sommet Ayachi à 3747m”.  Toguna voyages, for their
part, contradict this by claiming that ‘Ayyachi is a well-known summit. This
kind of haziness is typical anyway of Marrakech-based operators for whom any
mountain east of Bougemmaz belongs to the Middle Atlas! 

Jbel Ma’asker: a much abused summit



 

   Jbel Ma’asker seen from due N, Anfif gully on R, March 1986 (photo:M. Peyron)

In fact, while trawling the net it came home strongly to this writer that some
peoples’ ignorance of Atlas Mountain terminology is abysmal. Examples abound,
too numerous to be itemized, where visitors confuse the High and Middle Atlas.
But dwelling on these  would border on the absurd as we tend to favour a
positive approach. Some errors, however, deserve to be highlighted, such as
the puzzling confusion between ‘Ayyachi and Ma’asker. This emerges from the
following description: “Around the Maaskar culminating at 3747m in a splendid
world of virgin and undisclosed country, you discover scenic lakes, cedars and
oak forests…” (cf. Moroccan Skies, another Marrakech-based TO). Actually,
Ma’asker (and we won’t quarrel over the spelling!) is only 3257m high. This sort
of mix-up is unfortunate as it will end up confusing not only readers
but backpackers who actually visit the area.    



        

          

 Pics of Ma’asker purporting to illustrate ‘Ayyachi (photos: F. Boulbès, top, 
&  Trekking Atlas Berber Morocco, bottom).  



 Even stranger,  French travel consultant François Boulbès and local guide Zaïd
Oukda (cf. above) both publish photos, purportedly of ‘Ayyachi, but actually
showing Ma’asker! Wow! Somebody at the office must have messed things up. They
ought to get their act together, though, as no fewer than 16 outfits actually
offer the summit and we believe that their customers are entitled to a genuine
view of this prestigious mountain (cf. full article on ‘Ayyachi elsewhere on
this website).  



 



Another offender : our friend www.its4youtours  who use the above perfectly good
picture of Ma’asker to illustrate the description of a tour to the Rif
mountains, of all places! Well, it’s over 300 kilometres from Ma’asker to the
Rif as the crow flies, and anyway the two have precious little in commmon. By
looking carefully you can even make out the town of Tounfit at the bottom
left-hand corner of the photograph. (Rather like using a shot of Lochnagar to
illustrate Snowdon.) If they get the captions to their website pics wrong, how
are these people going to perform on the actual trip? Come on, gentlemen, try
and get your act together!



Cleaning up brochure talk 

It is obvious from the above that many of the local agencies have work to do on
their websites. Those that take the trouble to word their descriptions in
English should avoid dropping too many bricks regarding idiom and lexicon, and
this applies especially to our previously mentioned friends on
www.wanderingadventurestrip.moonfruit.com. There are also too many fanciful
spellings of place-names, faulty captions to photographs, misleading pieces of
information and other minor inaccuracies that cannot avoid casting doubt as to
the serious nature of an agency’s activities in the field. A typical example: a
consultant called Travel in Morocco has a webpage devoted to the Eastern High
Atlas with a description that goes like this: “ Situé à l’Est, c’est le massif
marno-calcaire de Midelt à Imilchil, aux vastes plateaux d’altitude que borde en
versant nord la cédraie primitive. Il culmine à l’Ayachi à 3747m.” Fair enough.
Three illustrations are then provided; one of them shows the village of
Oul-Ghazi situated several miles beyond Imilchil, well to the west,
therefore out of the area referred to. Agreed, our remarks may be dismissed as
niggling, and, let’s face it, these mistakes are probably not committed by the
actual guides who go out into the field, but by ill-informed pen-pushers at home
base. All the same, none of this carelessness looks good on paper and it lays
the agency’s professionalism open to question.   

Regarding inaccuracies, these Marrakchi blokes operating out-of-area far to the
east appear to have a spot of trouble registering local place-names. Here are a
few examples:-  Imtchim for Imtchimen; Aboulkhir for Tiboulkheyrin (‘wild
boars’, sing./plur. confusion);  Oued n-ouaqa, for Aqqa n-Ouyyad, ˂ aqqa n-uyyiḍ
(‘river of the night’); Imi n-Tkhant for Imi n-Tkhamt (place-name at foot of
‘Ayyachi N slope meaning ‘tent entrance’); Tizi n-Bou Lassen for Tizi n-Bou
Igoulassen (‘pass of the ripe barley’), a col between Tounfit and Assaka;
Akhbalou n-Assaka, for Aghbalou n-Oussaka, (a mistake that argues ignorance of
Berber grammar); Jbel Bou Eljallaber (sounding like a famous French cyclist and
sports commentator, Jalabert!), for Jbel Bou Ijellaben. 



 E face of  Jbel Bou Ijellaben overlooks Tatrout gorge near Assaka village, July
1968 (photo: M. Peyron)



 There are also some faulty statements:-  Talking of climbers attempting
‘Ayyachi from Ja’afar one operator (Travelwizard) claims : “Early risers in good
physical shape can climb to the top of the ridgeback (3737m/11,958ft) in about a
two days’ hike”. Actually it takes about 5hr to reach the top; another 3-4hr to
climb back down again. So, plan ahead for one day on the mountain, not two!

 

The spring of Inzar n-Oufounass is not on “Oued Ait Bou Arbi”, but several miles
away to the West on Asif Toura n-Ayt Moussa! (Toguna Voyages).  Now consider the
inaccurate description of a river-side picnic: “Déjeuner au bord de l’oued
Mellouya qui prend sa source dans le Haut Atlas central à Zaouit Ahansal” (Aziz
Rando & Tichka Trek). Actually not « Mellouya »  but Asif Toura n-Ayt Moussa, a
headwater tributary of Ansegmir, which eventually flows into the Melwiya  ;
furthermore, the Melwiya springs are situated between Tounfit and Aghbala in the
Eastern High Atlas, whereas Zaouit Ahansal lies some 100 kilometres to the
SW. Talk about shaky geography!

Conclusion





Because of indifferent accommodation, Midelt has unfortunately got itself a bad
name over the years. Hardly anybody stays a second night there, anyway, because
of its reputation as a town where there’s nothing to do. As a result it tends to
be used as a whistle-stop for tourist coaches, or by over-nighters with off-road
vehicles fresh from the pistes of the Deep South or Grand Atlas. Our answer to
that is that Midelt’s pronounced frontier town atmosphere, together with the
terrific sourrounding scenery of high steppe and snow-capped mountains more than
make up for this. Also, plenty can be found on the spot, in terms of cool
mountain air, artisans and mineral vendors, tasty apples to sample, or
excursions in the vicinity, to keep the visitor happy. And as for the
picturesque hotels, take them in your stride; make polite requests if you need
service and try to retain fond memories of interesting, entertaining experiences
to look back on later. Back from the trip, regale your guests at the inevitable
after-dinner slideshow, with a « When I was in Midelt… », for curtain-raiser!

The Eastern High Atlas with ‘Ayyachi and the Imilchil Lakes as chief attractions
has aroused interest among TOs over recent years. The Marrakech-based agencies,
however, with their sketchy area knowledge, approximate brochure descriptions
and somewhat supercilious attitude to the region, which they dismiss as the
« Middle Atlas », do not deserve their present strangle-hold on the local
market. Bearing in mind the tiresome 8-hour drive getting there if they choose
Marrakech, visitors stand to gain by arriving through Fez and making
arrangements with local guides and/or muleteers to take them up ‘Ayyachi, or
through the cedar country between Tounfit and the Lakes Plateau. That, in
fact, should become the rule of thumb, when approaching any of these
out-of-the-way areas: always rely on the local lads to see you safely up the
mountain and down the other side!

Miscellaneous items

  

    Front cover of Des Clark’s guidebook (photo: nomadic.morocco)

   1)  The above guidebook to the High Atlas by Des Clark, who has been living
in Morocco for several years, is apparently now available, although actual
availability status is not quite clear. The book deals with the winter ascents
of Atlas summits (on foot or with snow-shoes) and as such will be a welcome
source of information for a sizeable chunk of the mountaineering fraternity.
Indeed, more and more people are attracted to the High Atlas in winter, when
snow conditions pose an additional challenge, while weatherwise such trips
usually prove far more rewarding than in summer in terms of clear skies and
ideal light for photography.



  



   

    2) This eco-lodge run by Houssa Yakobi and his wife Michèle, situated among
olive groves just outside Zawit ech-Cheikh, is ideally situated for motorists
converging from Casablanca and/or Marrakech, who can put up here for the night
en route for the Eastern High Atlas. Its quiet foothill location, friendly
atmosphere and wholesome cuisine (mostly organic food) are highly
recommended. Ourthane is an ideal base for bird-watching; also for excursions to
the forested hill of Boumrar, to the pleasingly green, fertile expanses of Tit
n-Zegza, or investigating interesting historical vestiges of the once powerful
Ayt Yummur tribe in Aqqa n-Ibouhha. We warmly recommend this gîte.



   



    3) Henri Terrasse’s classic late-1930s book on Berber kasbahs of the Atlas
and Deep South has recently (September 2010) been re-published by the
Rabat-based Centre Jacques Berque and the French publishers Actes Sud. Architect
and anthropologist Salima Naji, herself a Moroccan specialist of Berber
vernacular architecture, has penned a scholarly and informative preface
placing Terrasse’s work in its historical context. The result is a pleasing,
190-page volume profusely illustrated with fine sepia prints from the author’s
personal collection, not to mention various other contributors, including line
drawings by Théophile Jean-Delaye. A book to scan by the fireplace; a must for
any « old Morocco hand »!



  Lone Backpacker



  michael.peyron@voila.fr

Publié dans Tour Operator Watch, Tourisme de montagne Atlas marocain | Pas de
Commentaire »

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